


A Life So Changed

by Pilferingstarlight



Series: A Life So Changed [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Classism, Eventual Phan, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers, Historical References, Period-Typical Homophobia, Phanfiction, Romance, Sexual Tension, Titanic - Freeform, Tragedy, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6367393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pilferingstarlight/pseuds/Pilferingstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TITANIC AU-- 1912. Phil Lester, the aristocratic son of one of the most prominent millionaires in England, travelling first class aboard the Titanic to America, where he will announce his engagement to a woman he is not quite sure he loves, and Dan Howell, the penniless third class wanderer who is travelling to America to seek opportunity and adventure. Different as sun and moon, they were never supposed to meet but one evening strike up a close friendship that develops into something much more. As they draw closer to their destination, they are faced with a single question: can their love survive or is it doomed to remain forever on the ill fated ship of dreams? (Loosely based off the 1997 film)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1: The Ship, Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So maybe you've seen or read this fic in the past, or maybe you haven't... either way, I'm updating the heck out of it because I was generally dissatisfied with the way it was, and want to only put what I consider to be my best work out for people to read. 
> 
> Basically, I'm going to post updated versions of the chapters weekly using the backdating feature, but the entire story will be up if you want to read on and stuff. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this new, updated version of my story!!

**Preface**

This is a story of fate. 

Some would argue that fate is the driving force that shapes the events and outcomes of our lives. Some would argue that fate doesn't exist, or that it exists in the form of chance. Some would go on to argue that chance and luck are the only things that make men rich or poor. Above all this, the real question is, is fate a static thing that cannot change? Are we bound on one track our entire lives, predestined to be the way we are? Or can we manipulate our fates and change as we go along?

This is also a story of soulmates. 

It is true that soulmates and fate walk hand in hand. How else would one be able to explain the events that took place April 10th- April 15th, 1912? Surely if their story had survived, it would have been used even to this day as scientific evidence to justify both the concepts of fate and soulmates. This is a story of two lives which never should have crossed paths, but were destined to. And were changed forever when they did. This is a story of fate. This is a story of soulmates. 

But most importantly, this is their story. 

 

**Part 1: The Ship**

 

Dan loved adventure. There was simply no other way to describe the most basic and innate characteristic of his being. At his simplest, most boiled down version of himself, the way in which he chose to live his life could be summarized by those three, concise words. He loved adventure. And, because the world seemed to love him during his first 20 years of life, he was well equipped to live a life of adventure. He was young, healthy and handsome, with cheeks that seemed to be flushed with permanent happiness, and brown eyes which twinkled with mirth. He'd been living on his own since he was 16, those years spent traveling wherever and with whomever. Jumping aboard trains traveling across country, taking up last minute chances to board cargo ships, striking up short lived friendships with sailors and craftsmen were his preferred- and only- modes of transportation. He was more than a simple vagabond or wanderer; he was an adventurer. 

By any standards of any country in the world, Dan was dirt poor. Yet, his stark poverty didn’t bother him one bit, and surprisingly never got in the way of the wonderful journey he considered life. If anything, his poorness seemed to create new opportunities. He had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. His parents had been poor, his friends were all poor, and wherever he lived was usually in the poorest, slummiest district of town, yet somehow from this world of hardships, Dan had managed to extract a happy existence. He found the secret to be living from day to day, though, spending what little money he acquired on drinks, cigarettes and girls, never keeping a job longer than a month, and never worrying about tomorrow. His life, he thought, was wonderful and he saw every day as a potential for a new adventure, or lifelong friendship, to arise. 

One summer, the summer of 1910 was spent living with Monsieur Théodore Closseau, an eccentric French painter. Dan needed a place to stay, Closseau needed a person to keep him company in his dilapidated family manor in the French countryside. It worked out pretty well. However, Closseau was irritable, paranoid and confrontational at the best of times. The arrangement lasted until it reached a dramatic climax which resulted in an oil painting thrown at Dan, who he found himself again packing his bags, and hitting the road. 

As he walked down the dirt path away from Closseau’s manor clutching his small bag of belongings, he asked himself the ever present question which burned a steady flame behind every wild, half planned adventure he got himself into. Where would he go from here? 

As if in reply, the wind picked up, blowing tiny dirt tornadoes in the road, pulling at his clothes, seeming to urge him to go down the road. Dan smiled and quite literally went where the wind took him.  
The wind blew him all over Europe for a couple years, then dropped him, like a falling leaf, in Dublin, Ireland. 

Perhaps this time, in this chapter of the merry journey he called his life, the wind had blown him dreadfully off course, because took one night in Dublin for Dan’s famous joie de vie to halt immediately. He arrived in the city January of 1912. He was 20. The winter has just reached its peak of intensity and was subduing for a while as the country went through a warm spell. He'd managed to hitch a ride into the city on a horse drawn wagon carrying beer. It was so late at night that some could count it as early morning. A cold, slushy rain was falling from the sky and Dan, unprotected as he was, was soaked and chilled to the bone. 

After wandering the city, he found that every bar and tavern were closed, except for one, a dingy old dive near the splintered docks where sailors and prostitutes drifted around like ghosts at all hours. The owner of the tavern was disagreeable, even more so upon discovering that Dan had wandered into Dublin with nothing but the clothes on his back. His name was Jonathan Clohessy, and if Dan wasn’t so desperate for shelter, he would have probably avoided the large intimidating man at all costs. It was only after Dan promised that he'd work a week's worth of chores around the tavern that he said, in an accent so thick Dan had to wonder if he was even speaking English, that Dan could stay in one of the tavern’s rooms. Dan promised he would do whatever needed to be done. Half annoyed, half impressed at his work ethic, Clohessy showed Dan to his “room”, which was more of a closet, so small that all it could hold was a cot and a small lopsided chest of drawers. But, it kept most of the rain and cold out, so Dan was grateful. 

This new arrangement lasted much longer than that first promised week. Dan turned out to be such a tremendous help, that the Clohessy's decided to keep him around a little longer, paying him in food and lodging. Clohessy wasn't much more pleasant during the day then he had been late at night, when Dan arrived. The tavern was an old rundown place by the port, but it eventually grew on Dan, as did old Clohessy and his wife, and he remembered back on those days not with contempt, but tenderness. The tavern consisted of a bar downstairs, where Dan sometimes worked, and a few rooms upstairs which the Clohessy's rented out. Many mundane days were spent upstairs, tidying the rooms with Mrs. Clohessy. He worked those days away, dreaming of the next time he could be back downstairs at the bar. Because it was on the harbor, the old bar’s main haunts were usually old weathered fishermen or young adventurous men like Dan, who had just gone out on their first voyage. They’d had their first taste of adventure, and came back brimming with stories, which Dan loved to hear as he wiped the tables or swept the floor. He’d stop what he was doing and listen intently about whaling expeditions and hurricanes and cargo deliveries, and how excited the men were to see their lovers after months at sea.

Though he remembered the Clohessy Tavern with fondness, Dublin wasn't what Dan imagined it to be. None of Ireland was, actually. He’d been able to fool himself for a while, carrying his idealized view of the place as another opportunity for fun and adventure on his hard working and weary shoulders. But it was in Dublin that the harsh unfairness of life finally began to wear Dan down. The people were rough and toughened from the hardships they all carried. Poverty and famine left them weathered and beat. They seemed as eager to get out of their own country as Dan had been to get in. Plus, most of them hated Dan because of his English accent, which he’d always been self conscious of. 

Daniel Howell didn’t just just have an English accent, he carried in his words the poised and refined eloquence of an upper crust well-to-do aristocrat. His handsomely posh articulation, which had been something he was aware of his entire life, had been brought to his attention recently, when he was living in the poorer districts of London with an American friend he'd met, who pointed out that he sounded “fancier than everybody else.” It was life’s little way of playing a cruelly ironic trick on the boy. The Howells of Wokingham, Berkshire were anything but posh. His father ran a small printing press out of a converted barn, and barely made enough to support Dan and his siblings. Growing up, he'd be lucky to get a new coat in the winter. Even little things like kerosene for lamps and coal for the fireplace were a stretch at times. Dan was happy to leave it all behind when he left. The only tie he had left to his life with his parents, before his days were filled with magic and wanderlust, was his curiously upper class accent.  
An accent that he was ridiculed for almost every day in the bar, by either Clohessy or a customer. Dan grinned and beared it, accepting the free meals and lodging he was payed with, and trying to hack out a happy existence for himself. Ireland brought the hardships of life into a harsh new light. Suddenly, he understood why people were not always happy, why the poor suffered. He remembered every time Clohessy suspended a meal for Dan because he had spent too much time daydreaming and not working, every time the little tavern got so cold he could see puffs of his breath because Clohessy couldn't afford coal that week. Every ache and pain and petty heartbreak he had was a reminder of how hard life is, and how inevitable pain and death is, morbid and scary existentialist ideas, which depressed Dan greatly. He needed to get away. Far away. So, three months after landing in the Clohessy's tavern, he bid the city of Dublin adieu. It was the closest he’d ever come to settling down. 

 

A week later he was strolling through the streets of Southampton, smoking a cigarette and once again looking for an adventure. 

It was a sunny day in April, and a warm spring breeze blew in from the sea. A grand ship was docked in the harbor, and emigrants of all different nationalities had been coming into the city all week, clutching their tickets and anxiously waiting for the ship's gangplank to be lowered. Dan didn't give the ship much thought. It was a luxury liner, brand new and scheduled to start her maiden voyage to New York City that afternoon. Though he had no interest in boarding, he admired the beauty of the new vessel, her four steam pipes reaching into the sky, the brand new glass windows dotting the side of the ship in neat rows catching the morning sunlight, and the name printed in giant letters on the side of the ship: RMS Titanic. The whole situation screamed opportunity, but ever since Dublin, Dan had become wary of impulsive adventures. He was going to go buy breakfast with the few pennies he'd acquired that day, when something unusual happened. Something that changed Dan’s life. 

Dan was drinking in the beauty of the day, how the light reflected off the old wood and stone of the buildings lining the narrow street, when he quite literally ran into an old man knocking him over. Dan cursed himself for being so clumsy as he helped him up. The man dusted himself off as Dan profusely apologized. 

“No worries, son. Accidents happen. Just watch where you’re going next time.”

Dan said he would and handed the old man his possessions, which was a hat, a pocket watch and a crumpled piece of paper. 

“Well… Sorry again.” Dan said. “But if you don’t mind me saying, you seem to be in a rush. Where you headed?” 

“Outta Southampton and hopefully outta Ireland completely.” 

Dan chuckled. “Aren't we all?” 

“I was supposed to leave this morning on that there ship in the harbor, the Titanic, because I secured a factory job in New York, but at the last minute, I got a real funny feeling. I guess I’ll miss Europe too much, or-” He paused, an idea forming on his face. “Ah sir, this is gonna sound crazy. I don't wanna waste this ticket, though. I got one for third class, a straight shot to New York City after a minor stop in France to pick up more passengers. I can’t guarantee it’ll be the luxury cruise the first class passengers are promised, but would you ah… Would you like it?” 

Dan weighed his options. If he accepted the ticket, he end up in a foreign country where he had nothing and knew nobody. Plus, this man said he had a funny feeling, and shouldn't all funny feelings be listened to? But on the other hand… After six years of being on his own, Dan had learned that rolling with the weird, strange and unexpected was how the best adventures got started. It had been years since Dan had been out at sea, and the stories told to him by weathered old fishermen and young sailors over tankards of beer at the bar were still fresh in his mind.

Memories of those seafaring tales made him think of Dublin, with a jolt. What if the Titanic, and America itself, was just another Dublin? What if the only lessons to be learned there was that life wasn’t always as wonderful as one may wish it to be?  
Remembering his hardships, Dan thought he had his answer. He couldn’t risk any more of the existential depression that struggle had put in perspective for him. 

He was about to say no when the wind picked up, blowing in the direction of the grand ship, and the seemingly sea that lay beyond it. Dan looked up. How peculiar it was to have a breeze blowing towards the sea and not away from it. He realized in that moment that Europe was old, and he had already been everywhere. America seemed new and exciting at the moment. America meant opportunity. 

So, with that renowned impulsiveness to go wherever opportunity knocked, that impulsiveness that had gotten him around much of Europe, Dan accepted the ticket, thanking the old man.

He was halfway down the street when the man called out, “Better hurry! The ship leaves in 5 minutes!”

“Five minutes?!” He turned to face the old man again, but he was gone. Dan was completely alone on the deserted street. 

The ship's horn blasted, indicating that it was leaving, and Dan, now sure that this was where fate was beckoning him, broke into a sprint down to the harbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, the word doc I keep this story in comes out to be like 335 pages or something... which is... yikes...


	2. Part 1: The Ship, Chapter 2

“She was the largest craft afloat and the greatest of the works of men. In her construction and maintenance were involved every science, profession, and trade known to civilization..”

“What are you reading?” 

Philip Lester snapped his book closed. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” It really wasn’t anything. Just some boring maritime adventure novel he’d picked up on the way to Southampton. It was called Futility, or something like that.

“Well, if you don’t want me to know what you are reading, zen do not read it out loud. I’m not zat bad at english, you know.” Cecile DuPont replied. She folded her tiny arms across her chest and rolled her big blue eyes indignantly. 

Phil’s cheeks burned. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t realize I was reading out loud. I guess I got too lost in the story.” 

Cecile glanced at him again, this time her gaze softened. He smiled and placed his hand on top of hers, squeezing it gently. As he held her small gloved hand in his, he couldn’t help but think that in a matter of days, that same hand would have a gorgeous 32 carat diamond perched on the ring finger. And he would be the one who had put it there. The car they were in hit a bump and Phil nearly hit his head on the roof. 

“Sorry about that,” The driver called back to them. “These roads are tricky to drive through. 

“We are paying you to get us to ze Titanic safely, not give us brain aneurysms in ze process.” Cecile snapped, her usually melodious voice very rough. Phil looked at her, surprised. In the many months they’d been courting each other, Cecile had tried her best to conceal her diva-ish inclinations from Phil, however lately, the rude and bossy side of her was beginning to show more and more, especially around servants and paid help. 

“Actually, sweetheart, it’s Captain Andrews job to make sure you're nice and cushy comfy, not mine. Now, if you paid me as much as you paid for one of those first class tickets, then we’d talk. Otherwise I’m going to have to ask you to suck it up, Frenchy.” 

“How rude!” She turned to Phil, her face the color of a beet. “Philip, did you hear what he just said? Are you not going to stand up for me?”  
Phil ignored her and rested his head against the cool glass of the car window, looking out to the crowds of people on the streets. Many of the families were obviously third class passengers. They had ragged clothes and sad eyes and clung to their small bags and bundles like they were the only things they had. They probably were. Phil's heart twinged with sympathy, but when he looked at Cecile's face, she showed no signs of empathy and was instead staring at the giant ship that loomed overhead. 

The RMS Titanic. The brand new luxury liner making her maiden voyage to New York. The ship that would bring Phil and his family to his father who hadn't seen in years. The ship that would bring him closer to marrying the woman he told himself for years he was in love with. The ship that would pound the last remaining nail into his coffin. 

The car drove close enough up to the ship that Phil could smell the fresh paint. 

They got out, Cecile still fuming about the rudeness of the driver. Phil sensed she did not want to be talked to or touched by the hot waves of fireball anger which seemed to roll off her shoulders. He stood slightly away from her and waited patiently as crew members took their bags aboard the ship. 

“Where is your mother, Philip?” She asked, still in that harsh tone. 

“She said she'd meet us here and we could all board together.” 

“Well, zats not very practical. I think we should ‘ave-” 

“Oh Philip! Cècile!” A cheery voice called from behind them. They both turned to see Mrs. Lester followed by about 10 workers, carrying her various crates and large boxes. As she approached Phil could feel all the negative energy between Cecile and himself dissipate at once, and Cecile’s icy glare melted into a summery smile. 

Phil’s mother gave both Phil and Cècile a long tight hug. “You're both looking so well!” She exclaimed. Cècile laughed warmly. She loved Mrs. Lester. And Mrs. Lester loved Cècile. The two women chatted happily about how excited they both were to travel to America. 

“Oh, darling, I’m so excited for you to finally meet Phil’s father! He’s expressed in his letters how much he’s looking forward to meeting you!” 

“And I am very excited to sing in New York. It’ll be my world debut, you know. All ze famous opera stars sing in New York.” Cecile’s voice had returned to that soft, fluttery sweetness that it usually was. The storm cloud had passed over, and rude, bossy, diva Cecile was gone, leaving only the sweet and successful wealthy opera star Phil’s mother knew her as. 

Phil stood to the side and watched the two women he loved talk. He wished he’d brought along some cigarettes, knowing the only time he’d have to smoke was after dinner in the lounge, where he would discuss business or politics with other rich young men over filthy tasting cigars.

Sometimes Phil felt like his mother had secretly always wanted a daughter, and loved Cecile so much because she thought of her as one. That was just as well, in no time at all she could treat Cecile like her daughter forever, because that was how long she and Phil were going to be married.Even though their engagement wasn’t even official yet, he still felt a pang of shock whenever he thought about the fact that he was going to spend the rest of his life with a woman like Cecile. 

“Oh, and Philip,” His mum said, turning her attention to him. “Martyn will be joining us tomorrow when the ship stops to pick up more passengers tomorrow in France.

“That's great!” Phil was genuinely excited. Maybe this trip wouldn't be completely awful. He hadn't seen his brother in ages, and hoped his good natured common sense would counterbalance Cecile's sometimes unreasonable personality. 

“Ah, my homeland, _mon pays d'enfance._ ” Cécile sighed.

“Will we be dropping you off in France, while we’re at it, Cecile?” Phil joked. Nobody laughed.

The ship’s horn blasted, cutting through the air and echoing off the nearby buildings. Phil winced at the loud noise. Somehow, he imagined that was the sound his wedding bells were going to make. A deep, throaty, ominous blast. Perhaps they should replace all wedding bells with ships horns. They represented basically the same thing; a change, a new path being taken in life, a send off into the inevitable. Marriage and crossing an ocean were very similar.

“We should probably get boarding now.” Cècile said. 

“Is everything packed? Everything's going on the ship now, perfect! Let's go!” His mother said gleefully. And the three boarded the big, beautiful ship.

They boarded in no time, breezing by the huge line of people waiting to get in simply by waving their first class tickets to the officials. As he was climbing up the gangplank, (first class passengers boarded on a different one than second or third) Phil almost felt bad for the others who were waiting. Almost. Any sympathies he had melted away when they were ushered onto the ship, through elegant french doors heralded on each side by smiling crew members in black suits white gloves. The interior of the ship was just as crisp and elegant as the exterior, and Phil couldn’t take enough in before they were ushered to their cabin on B Deck. It was one of six palatial suites for first class guests like them. Phil's mum kept apologizing repeatedly as their luggage was brought in by workers. 

“I know it isn't A Deck, I tried to get a suite up there but there weren't any more available! Oh I'm so sorry, I can request to move us if you want?”

“ It's beautiful, mother.” Phil said, kissing his mother's cheek. And it really was.The cabin consisted of a spacious main room with a sofa and loveseat, dining table and set of chairs. There were paintings all over the walls and in one corner a bust of the Roman goddess Venus perched on a pedestal, which was firmly bolted to the floor. Two rooms came off the main parlor, and a small lavatory where Phil could see a gorgeous porcelain bathtub standing on four gold clawed feet. The other room was a bedroom. As they walked deeper into the cabin, Cecile narrowed her eyes and Phil felt his palms grow sweaty. They looked at each other, thinking the same thing.  
“Uh, mother” Phil said. “There is only one bedroom.”

“And we are not married.” Cecile whispered. Phil glanced at her. Why was she whispering? Who would hear her, the bust of Venus?

Phil’s mum laughed. “You’re going public with the engagement in a few days, and you’ve been together for a little over two years. You two are basically married, as long as you keep quiet about it and don’t… do anything, you should be fine! Plus you have your own private promenade deck! Did you see the promenade deck?” 

Cecile was blushing deeply and her mouth was set in a straight line. Phil knew what she must be thinking. She didn’t want to become the gossip of the ship. He walked over and squeezed her small shoulders.  
“If you want, I can sleep on the loveseat. Or we can get a cot?” 

She looked at him and shrugged. “No, zis is fine. As long as we don’t talk or make fools of ourselves, everything will be fine. 

He followed her into the lavish bedroom.There were many beautiful things, such as a large bed with feather pillows and a blood red satin duvet, two large chests of drawers and a grand mahogany wardrobe, a Persian rug, a vanity table with a mirror surrounded by lights, and spotless white curtains with thick tassels pulled back to a magnificent window overlooking the harbor. The only modest thing in the room was basin for washing, in the corner. Everything looked expensive and everything looked brand new, but of course none of this registered to Phil. He and Cecile were used to this sweltering luxury. The most interesting thing about the room’s decor to them was that it was all brand new. The sheets had never been slept in. The basin had never been used, the claw footed bathtub never bathed in. 

“Excuse me, sir.” A younger crew member tapped Phil on the shoulder. He held in gloved hands a box, which Phil didn’t need to be opened to know the contents of. 

“Ah yes,” He said, ushering the young man and box away from Cecile, who thankfully hadn’t seen them. “Put those in the the vault. Make sure they are very, very well protected.”  
“Will do, sir.” The young man said, nodding his head. 

Phil watched as he inconspicuously placed the box, which contained a string of pearls costing $32,000, in the vault. Phil sighed, feeling at ease as the man locked the vault. He wouldn’t need those pearls until they got to New York, where he would present them to Cecile as an engagement gift. 

They unpacked a little more, and explored the first class promenade deck. At one point the captain himself came and greeted them, giving Mrs. Lester a kiss on the hand s he led them on a short tour of the ship’s upper levels. 

“Amazing. Truly amazing.” Phil's mother whispered as ran her gloved hand over the giant steering wheel. Phil knew that his mother could not care less about how the ship worked, but he suspected she still felt bad about them not being on A Deck and was trying to get close with the captain to make up for it. Once he concluded the tour, the captain checked the time on a gold watch and hurried off to get the ship ready to depart, apologizing for having to run off and promising the group a more official tour once the ship got underway.

When the ship blasted its horn indicating departure, they were quietly sitting on their private promenade deck, in the company of two of Cecile's socialite friends who were also making the trip. Phil disliked her friends, who sat there in their high collared white dresses and powder pink gloves, sipping tea and whispering to each other whenever Phil did anything. His mother sat to his right, commenting happily that they were the first people to ever drink from these tea cups. In all honesty, Phil could care less about the teacups. The private promenade deck was boring and stuffy, and he wanted nothing more than to be out there with the other passengers, to lean against the railing and wave to the crowd of people on the mainland who'd come to oversee their family's departure. He had suggested they go, but Cècile complained that the crowd was too noisy and gave her a headache. Phil's mum, who took Cecile's side on everything, agreed. So they sat and drank their tea, Phil staring at his own cup, which sat untouched. When the ship lurched forward for the very first time, the cheers of hundreds both on the boat and off painfully audible from their suite. Phil almost couldn't stand it. The curious child in him was bursting with energy. He excused himself silently, pushing his chair away from the table. Cècile looked up. Her friends whispered to each other, giggling.

“Where do you think you are going?” Cecile asked as he was almost out the door. He froze and turned around, a cheerful smile masking his growing irritation. 

“I was just going to walk the promenade. I wanted to get some air.” 

“Very well. After mes amis leave I am going to take a nap, zen we will all go to dinner. Be back soon, Philip.”

Phil didn't reply. He closed the cabin door softly, and ventured out onto the main promenade of the ship. 

To his right, he could see a faint stretch of green on the horizon. To his left, nothing but endless glittering blue sea. A gentle breeze kissed his face, pushing his hair back. He didn't bother to fix it, instead he undid the first couple buttons on his coat, ignoring the dirty looks he was receiving from another first class passenger. The promenade was alive with activity. Everybody seemed to want to be on deck, and everybody was. First class citizens such as he walking around the ship, mothers holding infants, fathers holding their sons up as they leaned over the railing, small children chasing each other and playing games. Phil smiled and sat on one of the deck chairs. Everything seemed so right. For a while he just sat there, enjoying the kaleidoscopic array of people before him, people from all different walks of life, brought together on this one deck.To one side of him, a woman stood engaged in friendly conversation with an old man from first class. A group of third class children were watching intently as a young boy from first class showed them all about his soccer ball. People mingling excitedly, regardless of social class or stature. Phil marveled at the strangeness of human life. He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, enjoying the merry hum of the ship's engine and the sounds of waves lapping against the boat’s giant metal hull. 

He was pulled back into reality by someone shaking his shoulders roughly. 

“Philip? Philip! Wake up!” 

“What…?” He blinked and yawned, easing a very disgruntled Cècile off him. He hadn't realized he’d fallen asleep, but the sun, which was was significantly lower in the sky, and the hot burning feeling in his face told him he’d been asleep for several hours. The scene on the promenade had changed. There were less people now, mostly just old men smoking their cigarettes and tossing the buds overboard. Cècile frowned and put her hands on her hips. 

“We ‘ave been looking for you everywhere, Philip! Your mother is worried sick! You could ‘ave fallen overboard! You could ‘ave drowned!” 

“Cecile, the likelihood of me falling overboard and drowning in front of so many people is-”

“Oh, Philip, when are you going to learn that it’s not all about you?”

He blinked. “Not about me?”

She sighed and sat next to him. For a few strange minutes, they sat, watching the sun set over the horizon. Since uninterrupted silence was so uncharacteristic with Cecile, Phil was going to ask her if she was feeling alright. Then, she spoke up. 

“Philip, I know you are not dumb, but do you think I got to where I am now by wandering around, daydreaming and taking naps whenever I please? Look at us. Look at the people we surround ourselves with. Look at yourself. You are not just anybody. You are Philip Lester. You have an image to maintain, and expectations to live up to. I am sorry if I am being ‘arsh with you, but we are under so much pressure.”

Phil searched her pale blue eyes, wondering how someone could speak so soft yet so harsh. He brushed a lock of curled brown hair away from her face and apologized. 

“I understand, darling. I’m very sorry.”

“Let’s go ‘ave dinner, _mon cher_.” She said as she stood up and took his hand. 

Phil thought he understood. And for the most part, he agreed. But as they were walking to dinner, he could not ignore how tight Cecile’s grip was on his wrist, and could not shake the feeling that the walls were slowly closing in on him.


	3. Part 1: The Ship, Chapter 3

Dan wasn't adjusting to being at sea very well. 

Once he'd gotten on the ship- he'd just barely made it- he had to find his cabin. He spent what seemed to be hours wandering the narrow hallways of the G Deck. It was a complete maze, every corridor looking nearly identical. The cabin itself was hardly bigger than his old room at Clohessy's, with a sink and two narrow beds stacked on top of eachother. A small round porthole looked out onto Southampton harbor. Literally. It was level with the sea and sprays of seawater kissed the glass whenever they hit a particularly large wave. Still, it was nice. And new. Dan felt lucky because neither of those things could be said about many of the other boats he'd worked on. His roommate, a broad shouldered Swedish man who didn't speak a word of English, had wisely picked the bottom bunk. Dan nodded hello, thinking silently to himself that he was not going to be staying here. Why stay in such a dark cramped place when there was an entire ship to explore? Why should he sleep with his nose literally inches from the ceiling and his feet dangling over the edge when he could be sleeping under the stars? He grabbed his coat and hat, his only two possessions, and left the cabin. 

Outside on deck, it was sunny and there was a pleasant breeze. Children ran around, playing tag and chasing each other, weaving in out and around the legs of disgruntled adult passengers, who were strolling slowly around the ship, enjoying the fresh sea air. He overheard two gangly middle class teenagers leaning against the rail chatting. 

“Did y’hear that one of the passengers almost didn't make it on the ship?

“Oh, yes I heard he had to jump onto the gangplank as it went up.” 

“I heard he almost got squished between the gangplank and the side of the ship, it was rising so fast.”

“Yeah? Well I heard he also had to jump over three feet of water.” 

“No way.”

“It's true. My old man saw him.” 

Dan almost laughed. Not even two hours into the voyage and his little mishap had already become famous gossip among the passengers. 

The day passed by quickly after departure. There were many parts of the ship to be explored including the common room, the smoking room, all the winding and weaving hallways with neat little rows of cabin doors on each side. He even dared to peek his head into a first class ballroom.

It was almost dusk when he couldn't ignore the awful rocking of the ship any longer. All day his queasiness had grown increasingly, and it was when he was in the first class smoking room, trying not to get caught, that he realized that the room was spinning. After staggering around the promenade for a while he leaned against a rail overlooking the back of the ship and vomited over the side. After several lurching bouts of seasickness he sunk down against the rail, panting, and wiped his mouth with his hand. It was dark out, and Dan thought the deck was deserted. That’s why he jumped when somebody cleared their throat. 

 

Dinner with Cècile, his mother and the captain was simply torturous. Phil sweat profusely under the collar and tie Cècile had forced him into. He smiled tightly and answered every mildly invasive question the captain asked him. _Where did you go to university, my boy? Are you intending on marrying miss DuPont? How many children would you like to have?_ The dining room was too hot, and everyone spoke over glasses of overly expensive wine and tiny servings of overly prepared food. Of course Phil was used to that kind of thing. His mother hosted plenty of dinner parties back home. What he wasn't used to was everybody stealing glances at their table, or just staring outright, their envy not well concealed on their faces. Were they staring at them because they were dining with the captain, or because they’d gotten word that unmarried Cecile DuPont and Philip Lester were rooming together? 

It was as if the room was spinning. The food, mixed with the wine, mixed in with present company, mixed in with the hidden glances and outright stares from fellow diners, made Phil all at once overwhelmed. 

He stood up and announced that he was going to get a breath of fresh air outside for a moment. Cècile shot him a nasty look, and his mother looked baffled, but the captain nodded in understanding. 

“Haven't gotten your sea legs yet, son? I completely understand. Give it a day, you'll loosen up.”

His mother still looked aghast. Surely she hadn’t raised Phil to think it was okay to simply walk out when he was dining in front of important company. But, she could see how uncomfortable he looked, and nodded. Phil gratefully left the dining room.  
Once he got onto the deck he broke into a run. He ran opposite the direction the ship was moving, towards the stern and felt like he was racing the waves. When he got to the back of the ship he leaned over the rail so far he was afraid he would fall overboard. Remaining in that awkward half folded position he studied the dark churning water, tossed and turned by the giant motor propelling the ship. How cold would that water be? Would the fall alone from this height kill him or would the shock of the coldness of the water? 

It was only when he pulled himself back over the railing did he notice he wasn't alone on the deck. 

A young man sat against the rail, a few feet away from him, shaking as if he himself had just jumped into that icy water. Phil furrowed his brow. He waved his hand at him, and when he took no notice of his presence, Phil cleared his throat and the man looked up. Even in the dim light Phil could make him out pretty clearly. He was tall and lanky- even though he was huddled on the ground Phil could tell he was a good couple inches taller than he. His dark hair curled gently at the nape of his neck and around his ears, most of it hidden by a brown cap. He had round cheeks, a pointed nose, and long dark eyelashes. He was obviously from third class, but he seemed to be a different kind of poor from the other third class passengers on the boat. Everybody else looked tired and hungry, absolutely worn down, their ragged clothes hanging off their pale frames. This boy's clothes were ragged too, but he had a healthy face and flushed cheeks. Even before he said anything, he gave Phil the distinct impression that he was someone traveling through life as if it was a big merry journey, and just happened to be poor. 

“Tough night, eh mate?” Phil asked, offering the man his handkerchief from his pocket. 

“I guess you could say that.” The man said. He wiped his mouth stuffed the handkerchief into his coat pocket. Phil didn't want it back anyway.

Perhaps he was still feeling defiant after his minor row with Cecile, and the nightmare dinner he’d just run out on. Perhaps he was curious as to what mingling with lower class passengers was like. Or perhaps something in the man’s eyes inexplicably drew Phil closer in. Whatever the reason, Phil decided then and there that he simply didn’t care, and took a bold step outside of his privileged social circle, sitting down on the cold deck right next to the man, who’d stopped shaking. The man eyed Phil warily, but he just smiled and held out his hand. 

“Philip Lester.” 

“Daniel James Howell.” The man said, taking Phil's hand in a firm handshake. They both sat in silence for a while, watching the stars pass over the ship. 

“So, uh… what's your story, Daniel James?” Phil asked. He felt strange, light headed and as if a noose had been lifted off his neck. 

Daniel Jame wrinkled his nose as the awkward introduction. “Excuse me?” 

“Why are you going to America?” Phil said. 

“Oh… Well… A man gave me a ticket so I got on the boat.” 

“Well, obviously...” 

“That’s the whole story.”

“You were given a ticket and you got on the boat?” Phil repeated, seeing how the words felt in his own mouth. That was technically Phil’s story too. Only, the tickets had been presented to him in a golden envelope, given to him personally by the ship’s architect, and had cost him nearly $2,700.

Dan laughed. “It sounds ridiculous when you say it, but that’s pretty much it. This morning I woke up in some girl’s bed, got dressed, went out to find some breakfast, and some strange man gave me his ticket so I got on the boat.”

“You're being completely serious? I can't believe you're being serious.” Phil said. “Did you at least tell the girl you were leaving?”

“To get breakfast, yeah.” Dan said. 

“But not that you were getting on a bloody ship and going halfway across the world!”

“Please, I didn't owe her an explanation. I don’t even remember her name.” Dan said.

“Yeah… but suppose she's still in bed waiting for you to come back with breakfast.” Phil said, still in shock that someone could have just decided to get on the ship like that. His trip had taken months of planning, packing and reservation. Daniel James couldn’t have just gotten on the boat the same day he got a ticket. 

Daniel James laughed. “I suppose she is! But really, don’t believe me? All I brought were these.” he gestured down to his coat and began emptying the pockets. A pack of cigarettes. A flask half full of whiskey. A handful of change and the handkerchief Phil had just given him. Phil stared at Dan.

“You can't be serious.” 

“That and the clothes on my back. Fancy a cig?” 

Phil gratefully accepted. Dan lit one and handed it to Phil, then lit one for himself. Phil took a long, deep drag. It was one of the cheaper variety of cigs, nothing like the fancy cigars he usually smoked. But he liked it. His mouth and nostrils filled with the thick smoke and he exhaled a puff of it into the cool, dark air. They sat for a while, smoking in comfortable silence.

“So, it seems that it would only be polite if I asked you about your story. Why're you going to America?” Dan said, flicking his finished cigarette over the edge and lighting a new one. He removed another cigarette from the carton and tucked it behind his ear. 

“I'm… going to see my father.” Phil didn't want to add that his father was one of the most successful businessmen in the steel industry and he was seeing him to announce his engagement to one of the most famous opera singers in Europe.

“Got any family?” Dan asked. 

“Mother on the ship right now, brother boarding tomorrow in Cherbourg.”

“Got a girl?” Dan asked again  
.  
“I have a girlfriend…” Phil said. He took another cigarette.

“That’s wonderful!” Dan said. He frowned when he saw Phil’s uncomfortable expression. “Don’t like her very much?”

Phil looked over at Dan, who he barely knew, trying to decide whether or not he should tell him anything. Something in him said yes. This Daniel James fellow had a very trustworthy face and demeanor. “Honestly, I don't…” 

As if she’d been listening for her entrance, Cècile herself marched up to the two men, looking almost ridiculous in her fancy evening gown. Phil felt strange. For the very first time, he was almost ashamed to be associated with her. 

“Hello Cecile.” He said. 

Dan raised his hand in greeting, and in return she gave him a look that one might give something horrible left out in the gutter. Then she looked back at Phil. 

“You idiot! You said you were getting a breath of fresh air, not gallivanting across ze entire ship!”

“Well, darling, there is a lot of air back here.” He said, thankful he’d managed to toss his cigarette away in time.

“Do you know how embarrassing zis is for me? You just walk out of dinner with ze captain of ze ship! You are a grown man! Stop running off!” She growled. Phil’s face flushed indignantly.

“If I’m a grown man I should be able to go somewhere and not have to constantly check in with my nagging girlfriend! Christ, Cecile, we aren’t even married yet.” 

Cècile’s face darkened. “Don’t test my patience, Philip.” She spoke in a low, threatening tone, like thunder clouds rolling in over a perfectly beautiful summer’s day. Phil took that as his cue to back off. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a scene in front of his new friend. 

“Look, I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry won’t suffice. Come apologize to your mother. ‘eaven bless ‘er, you always ‘ave ‘er worried sick.” She sent one more disgusted glare in Dan’s direction and spun on her heels, walking back inside. Phil’s face burned with shame, not only because of how rude Cècile treated his new friend, but because now Dan knew exactly how wealthy he really was. Dan watched until Cècile got a far enough distance away then whispered, “Say no more, mate. I completely understand.” 

Phil laughed dryly, without smiling and turned to go. 

Dan grabbed his arm. “Hold on. I want to see you again.” 

Phil raised his eyebrows, surprised at how direct Dan was. Dan stared at him, determination burning in his eyes.

“I’ll be out here tomorrow?” Phil said. 

“Same place?” Dan said. The wind picked up and he shivered, wrapping his olive coat tighter around his thin frame.

Phil smiled. Despite the cold, Dan’s words made him feel warm inside. “Alright.”

“2 pm sound good?”

Phil thought about it. They were scheduled to arrive in Cherbourg around 4, but he wouldn’t be spending that much time with Daniel James, would he? He would like to. “2 pm sounds great. God, I’ll probably be bored out of my skull with everything on this bloody ship by then.”

Dan threw back his head and laughed. “You bourgeois, you get sick of things the second after you get them. Look at me, I’m poor as dirt and I’ve already gone everywhere on the ship! Twice! I could never get sick of it, this is the fanciest place I’ve ever been. Hell, I may never leave!”

Dan’s good naturedness made Phil feel at ease and seemed to relieve a lot of tension. The heaviness in the air that had been lingering since Cecile left them lifted, and Phil laughed in response. “Yes, well, we'll see how you feel about that in a week.”  
“Philip! Come inside!” Cècile called from the doorway. 

Phil winced. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Daniel James.”

“Goodnight, Philip Lester.” Dan said as Phil started walking toward his angry wife to be. “Good luck!” He called out a little louder. 

As Phil was walking inside, he couldn’t help wonder. Had he made a friend aboard this giant ship?

Dan stayed sat against the rail at the stern of the ship for a long while. Finally he got up, stretched, tossed his cigarette butt overboard and walked over to a nearby bench. It was cold outside, but he hardly noticed. He reclined on the bench, and stared at the brilliant mosaic of stars above. His mother had told him a story about the stars, and his father had taken him stargazing on clear nights, on the hill near their small house. That all seemed like a lifetime ago. The sky hadn’t changed after all those years, but the scene under it sure had. Dan searched the stars, feeling at home under the all the constellations and planets which he knew by heart. There, he spotted Orion, and the Big Dipper, and the north star Polaris and the dog star Sirius, and thousands more. He found comfort in their twinkling dim lights and steadfast course in the sky. The moon sat fat and full, just hanging on the horizon and sending her silvery light across the water, illuminating the waves. He hardly noticed the rocking of the boat anymore. He fell asleep on the bench, thinking about that strange and interesting first class passenger, Philip Lester.


	4. Part 1: The Ship, Chapter 4

Phil woke the next morning, the sun shining through the windows and onto his bed. He heard a maid preparing tea in the parlor. He stretched and sat up. It was a brilliantly beautiful day out, warm, and the ocean was a sparking blue. He dressed quickly and ate a breakfast of caviar and toast points, with some freshly brewed African sun tea. Cècile was out having brunch with her friends so Phil had the day to himself. He had never been so happy about being alone. He felt like he never got any time alone, not back home, not here, and probably not in America after he announced his engagement to his father. The possibilities of what he could do with his free time seemed endless. 

The previous evening he’d received an earful from Cecile when they got back to the cabin. Who was that man he was talking to? Where was he from and what did he want? Phil sat through the berating, replying with I don't know to every question shot his way. Then she smelled the cheap cigarette on his breath and clothes. Cècile constantly complained about how much she hated smoking. She refused to touch even the fancy cigars, claiming that they ruined her voice and gave her headaches. This went for Phil too. She got so mad that she began yelling in French, her first language. Then she broke down and cried about how Phil didn’t care for her, and how she was under a lot of stress. All he could do was sit there awkwardly and watch, waiting for her to calm down. Cecile obviously didn’t take to being at sea well. 

Finally, he’d gone to bed, and a little while later the self proclaimed love of his life came in, undressed and crawled into bed next to him, completely disregarding any social stigmas about two unmarried people sharing a bed. He got the feeling she wanted him to wrap his arms around her but instead he turned over and waited for the rhythmic rocking of the boat to lull him to sleep.

 

In no time at all it was time to meet Daniel Howell again. Phil felt silly admitting it, but he’d been looking forward to the meeting all day. It sure beat sitting at brunch with Cècile and her irritating friends.

The deck was just as sunny and crowded as it was the day before. Phil tried to ignore the perplexing butterflies building up in his stomach as he walked through the groups of passengers, moving against the general flow to the back of the ship. When he caught a glance at him, leaning on the rail and facing toward the sea, his heart leapt to his throat.  
I’m nervous because I just met him last night. He convinced himself, trying to swallow the nervous feeling. Dan turned and smiled when he saw him, a genuine smile that transformed his face and seemed to warm the air about 10 degrees. His smile was so contagious, Phil couldn’t help but grin. 

“Daniel James.” He said.

Just Dan is fine. How are you Philip? Can I call you Phil?”

Phil was a little surprised. His brother had called him Phil when they were younger. Nobody else had, though. It was a name that was just too informal for the world he was born into. Phil was completely different from Philip. Phil felt like a different person. He grinned and shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” 

Dan gestured down the promenade. “Shall we?” 

They began walking, almost instantly picking up where they left off the day before, and Phil was secretly glad to skip over all the boring small talk. Dan seemed so natural, someone who was very easy to be friends with, Phil found he didn’t even care that others were seeing him in public with someone from a lower class. Dan was also incredibly easy to talk to. 

“So why're you even planning to marry that woman anyway?” He asked as they strolled the promenade. The sun sat high in the sky, and there was not a cloud in sight to block it, but the cool sea breeze kept them from getting too hot. 

“Oh god, I don’t want to think about that.” Phil said. He hoped Dan would drop the subject. Dan kept pushing. 

“Why not?”

“Well, Daniel James, since you and I are near perfect strangers, and I have no business interacting with you in the first place, you’re obviously an ideal candidate for me to bear my soul to.” 

“Your sarcasm stings.” Dan replied in a flat tone. Phil sighed. 

“Alright, well, if you must know, I have to propose to her in New York during a very important dinner in which many of the most prominent socialites in the city, one of which who is my father, will be in attendance. It’s all completely crazy and to be perfectly honest, I want no part in any of it.”

“So? Aren’t you supposed to do crazy things for the one you love?” Dan waited for Phil to respond. His silence said more than his words could. Dan’s eyes grew large. “You don’t love her, do you?”

“Cecile will… make a wonderful wife.” Phil said. 

“Why are you proposing if you don’t love her?” Dan asked.

“My mum likes her. And she’s very famous.” Phil said. 

“Oh wow,” Dan said sarcastically. “Two very compelling reasons.”

“It’s not like I had a say in it or anything!”

“You didn’t?” 

“Our parents… they think me proposing will be good publicity for the families. And it is, I guess.” Phil said, blushing. 

Dan whistled. “Getting engaged just so you can make a headline. Rich people are wonkier than I thought.” 

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t. Me, I’m more of the take em and leave em type.”

“You must’ve broken a lot of hearts.” Phil said mildly, raising his eyebrows. 

Dan shrugged. “Usually it’s people in a similar situation as myself.”

“Oh really? Is there some sort of culture among penniless wanderers of Europe?” Phil stepped to the side to avoid knocking shoulders with a passenger going in the opposite direction as himself, almost pushing Dan into the railing.

“Watch it, Lester!”

“You watch it.” Phil replied defensively. He was not used to being talk to in such a rude manner. 

Dan sighed, rolling his eyes. His expression told Phil everything. God, rich people.  
“But, Phil Lester, to answer your question, no. But I’ll take anyone who comes along.” He said.

“Anyone?” Phil repeated. 

“Anyone.” He said meaningfully. They stopped walking and Phil met his eyes. Somehow, he didn’t have a hard time believing that Dan really would take anyone. But not in a crass sort of way. He believed, even without knowing Dan very well, that he would treat whoever he was with like they were the single most important person in the universe. He’d improved Phil’s day, alright. 

Something in the corner of his eye, way out on the horizon pulled Phil away from Dan’s eyes. A faint strip of green where the ocean met the sky. Dan leaned against the rail. 

“America already? Time really does fly when you’re having fun.” 

“Oh be quiet you. That’s Cherbourg, France. We’re getting more passengers here. I’m seeing my brother for the first time in months.” That last statement made his heart feel lighter. Maybe having Martyn by his side would get him through this terrifying proposal easier. 

Dan squinted and leaned further over the rail. “No, I’m pretty sure that’s America.” 

“I genuinely can’t tell if you’re being serious or not…”

“Phil. I lived in Cherbourg for almost three months.” 

That shut Phil up for a while. They watched in silence as the strip of mainland that was Cherbourg, France grew larger and larger. Houses and buildings came into detail, and then even the people on the streets. France didn’t look very different from England from the water, but as they grew closer, the shores seemed to whispered to Phil in a hushed voice that came and went with the breeze. _Connaissez vous l’homme angleterre qui veut se marier notre chère Cécile DuPont? L’aime-t-elle? Vraiment?_

Phil turned to Dan, trying to shake off the deeply unsettled feeling he’d had since they caught sight of the shore. 

“Listen, I want to keep talking with you, but I also haven’t seen my brother in months…” 

“Say no more, mate.” Dan said, slowly beginning to walk away. “Meet me at the stern on the ship when you’ve finished all your rich people business.”

“Will do.” Phil called after his retreating figure. 

 

Phil scanned the crowd of first class passengers for his brother. He couldn’t wait to see Martyn, but at the same time, he wanted to go back and talk to Dan more. Dan was so fascinating, he could have probably read the passenger list and made it sound interesting. Martyn tapped him on the shoulder. 

“How’s my favorite seafaring brother?” He asked, pulling him into a hug.

“As far as we know, I’m your only seafaring brother.” Phil laughed, hugging his older brother. “How have you been?”

“I’ve uh… I’ve been well. Been talking with father a lot.” 

“Oh really?” Phil felt a jolt of fear race down his spine. “Is he excited to meet Cecile? God, I’m so nervous about that…”

Martyn’s face fell, and he glanced around the crowd of boarding passengers, as if he expected one to be listening in on them. “Actually I need to talk to you about that. Can we go somewhere private to talk?” 

“Will this take long?” Phil asked. He was thinking about Dan, who was still waiting for him on the upper deck. 

Martyn shook his head. “Trust me, we really need to talk, and this isn’t a good place.”  
Phil led him to his cabin, whose only inhabitant were Cecile and a maid who was helping her dress. Martyn smiled at Cecile, and gestured for Phil to follow him out onto the promenade, where he promptly closed and locked the door. 

“What’re you being so secretive for?” Phil asked as he poured him a glass of scotch. 

“Keep your voice down! Listen, father sent me a telegraph over the wire yesterday morning. Business has come up in Chicago.” He stopped talking to take a sip of scotch. 

“Business in Chicago? What does that even mean?”

“It means…” Martyn glanced towards the locked door and leaned in close to Phil. “It means he won't be attending the dinner where you planned to propose. He won't be able to make it at all.” 

Something flooded through Phil’s system. Relief?  
“I don’t see why that’s an issue. I guess we’ll have to push back the date…”

“That’s the thing. He doesn’t want to push the date back, he wants to push it forward. Phil, father has given me his blessing to pass onto you, to propose to Cecile tonight!”  
The relief was replaced with a deep wordless dread, and Phil tightened his grip on the glass of scotch.

“Tonight?” He repeated, his mouth suddenly very dry. 

Martyn slapped him on the back. “Oh come on, Phil. You and Cecile have been together for ages now. What’s a few day’s difference?” 

The difference, Phil thought. Is that I would have had a few more days to pretend I’m not Philip Michael Lester. A few more days of freedom, of pretending that I don’t have to marry that woman. That’s the difference, Martyn. 

“And besides,” Martyn said. “I saw that one bed in there. You know how people will talk. Word gets around awfully fast on a ship like this.” 

“God Martyn, I’ll do it tonight, you don’t need to pressure me.” Phil said. Then, he threw his head back and drank the rest of his scotch. Here’s to the last few hours of freedom. He thought sullenly. 

 

He was still in a sour mood when he rejoined Dan on the stern of the ship. Dan, who had been staring out at the shrinking mainland on the horizon, noticed him immediately. 

“I was beginning to think you abandoned me out here.” He said. 

“Me? Abandon you? Never.” Phil said, a little too fast. Dan looked him over, from his shaking hands to his disheveled hair. 

“Hey, are you alright? Everything okay with your brother?” 

“Everything’s fine.” Phil said quickly. “Why don’t you just… tell me about yourself? I need to get my mind off some things.” 

Dan, as it turns out, was from Wokingham, Berkshire but had left home at 16. He had more to say about France, Germany, Italy, and Ireland, than his own hometown. As he talked excitedly about the many other nameless European countries he’d lived in, Phil decided he was the most fascinating person he had ever met. Phil told him about himself, too. His cushy childhood in Manchester, his wealthy father, even about how he met Cecile, which he remembered painfully, his mind still dwelling on the upcoming proposal. It felt so good to talk. Finally, he thought, a friend who wants to do more than just play croquet or fence or compare who’s got the most money. They talked until early into the evening, with nothing to interrupt them this time.

“...and then I said “but Monsieur Closseau, I didn’t MEAN to sleep with one of your models, it was an accident, I swear!” and you know what he did to me?”

“What?”

“He threw the painting at me. He actually threw the painting of the girl at my head.” 

Phil laughed. “Amazing.” 

“What?”

“You, Dan. You take these horrible people, these horrible situations, and you make them sound absolutely wonderful.” Phil said. He couldn’t help it, the words just tumbled out of his mouth. 

“Well they were wonderful. To me.”

Dan’s stories were definitely more interesting than his. With his countless adventures and mishaps, Phil reckoned he could listen to his friend talk forever and never grow sick of it. He glanced at him, and was surprised at how nice his face looked in the light of the setting sun. It cast an orangey glow across the water and settled on Dan’s already warm features. He frowned, knowing he couldn’t hold in what he’d been thinking about saying all afternoon. 

“Dan?”

“Yeah, Phil?” Dan turned his head and the light caught his eyes, making them not dark brown, but a shallow pool of amber, with flecks of auburn and gold. Phil realized he liked brown eyes immensely. 

“I… I have to do something tonight, something that I’m terrified as hell to do. I think it would really help to have a friendly familiar face in the crowd when I do it, so would you care to come to dinner with my family and I tonight?”

Dan scoffed. “Me? At first class dinner? Won’t your fiance from hell be mad?”

“I don’t care what Cècile thinks. If I want to bring one of my friends to dinner I can. Besides, she’s not even my fiance yet.”

“So you agree that we’re friends?”

“Sure… at least, I hope we are.” 

“I don’t exactly have anything else to wear.” Dan spread out his arms to prove the point,  
showing off his outfit.

Phil studied his clothes. A white shirt and brown vest under a comfortable looking olive green jacket. A simple pair of black pants, with a patch at the knee. A pair of lace up work boots, scuffed and worn from travelling and of course the brown newsboy cap pulled over his brown curls. He smiled. “I think I can help with that.”

 

Phil’s suit was a little too small for him. Even though Phil was older, Dan was a couple inches taller. The collar was hot and itchy and the gel Phil had forced him to use made his hair sleek and stiff, which he was sure wasn’t very attractive at all. He did enjoy the absence of curls though, for he’d always secretly resented his curly hair. But Phil smiled and gave the thumbs up for approval, so Dan decided it was livable for one night.

“Now you look first class ready.” Phil said Dan smiled as he slowly suffocated in that tight, uncomfortable suit. He didn’t complain one bit, though. He would probably jump off the bloody ship itself if Phil told him to. Dan felt an inexplicable kinship toward the man… perhaps because he had never had a close friend before. He’d moved around so much he had never had time to stop and build actual relationships with people. 

That was Dan’s biggest fault. Among other things that was wrong with him, like being left handed, and so tall he had to stoop a little to go through doorways, he always ended up pushing people away. He hated this about him but he couldn’t do much to change. And yet, his heart went out to Phil. He knew that Phil felt stuck. Stuck in his role as Philip Michael Lester, the second son of Nathaniel Lester, steel industry icon and one of the richest families in England. Even though he hadn’t said it, Dan could tell Phil felt like his life was more of a headline, a spot on the family tree rather than his own to live out as he pleased. He wanted nothing more than to take him far away from this boat, from his family and from the life he lived. He would bring Phil the happiness he deserved even if it killed him. Phil stepped into the room in his own suit, looking positively dashing. Dan tried not to blush awkwardly as Phil reached over and adjusted his tie. 

“Shall we?” Phil asked. 

“You go ahead... I’ll be right along.” 

“Alright, I’ll meet you somewhere and we can go in together. How about the grand staircase? At the bottom of it?”

“Sounds good.” Dan smiled as Phil left the room. Dan was completely alone as he walked around the suite. He hadn't really gotten to explore while Phil was in the room, but now that he was gone, he walked the entire length of all the spacious rooms- there were three total- and admired the general luxurious air to each one. He ran his hand over the soft downy mattress on Phil’s bed and the soft velvety loveseat in the parlor. And then- for just a second- he closed his eyes and let himself imagine for just a second that all of this belonged to him, and he was the wealthy son of a businessman sailing across the sea in luxury on the Titanic. The fantasy didn’t last long and Dan was ashamed. He was healthy, happy and sailing on the biggest ship in the world right now. That was a lot more than most people could say. He shouldn’t be ungrateful. Life was lovely and offered him so much. Deciding he had kept Phil waiting long enough, he left the suite to go to the grand staircase.  
Phil checked his pocket watch for the fifth time since he got to the staircase. Cecile’s pearls, which he’d snuck into his pocket while Dan was getting dressed, seemed to be weighing him down, pushing in through the floorboards, down to the bottom of the Atlantic itself. Where was Dan? He’d said he would be right down, and Phil was starting to look ridiculous just standing there. He glanced again and when he looked up, there he was, standing at the top of the grand staircase, grinning like an idiot. 

_Silly boy,_ Phil thought. _Everyone’s going to know he’s a fake. It’s painfully obvious he’s poor as dirt. Act natural, Dan, act natural!_ Dan noticed Phil and broke into a full on beaming smile. It was hard not to smile back. Dan began to descend the stairs and immediately tripped, earning glares of disapproval from his fellow first class passengers. Phil turned red and sighed. When Dan got to the bottom of the stairs after regaining his posture, he was equally as red and Phil took him by the arm. Dan immediately squirmed his way out. 

“What is this, a date? I’m not a woman so don’t treat me like one of your pretty dates!” He said almost defensively. 

“I was merely making sure you didn’t trip again.” He said as another wealthy coupled waved to them. Dan smiled big and waved back, but Phil only smiled briefly and nodded his head. “You have to play it cool,” He whispered. “Rich people don’t like showing emotion.” 

Dan’s shoulder’s slumped but he nodded. However, even Phil couldn’t stop his face from lighting up when they stepped into the grand dining area. It was admittedly very impressive. Even the waiters were well dressed in their crisp white aprons and black vests. A huge crystal chandelier glinted and reflected beams of the orange setting sun which came in through a grand window at the very stern of the ship. The light seemed to travel across the water and pool into the very room itself. Phil spotted his family at the very back of the room, near the window and was disappointed to see the captain sitting with them again. How was Dan supposed to act natural in front of the captain of the bloody ship? 

They made their way over to the table. He greeted the captain and then turned to greet his family.

“Mother, Martyn, Cècile, this is my friend Daniel James.”

“Pleased to meet you, dear.” His mother stood up and reached across the table to shake Dan’s hand. “My, aren’t you handsome.”

“Oh mother, stop. You’re embarrassing him.” Phil said. 

“Well, he probably already knows it!” 

Cècile was staring hard at Dan, scowling a little. “Do I know you?”

Dan cleared his throat. I uh… I don’t think we’ve met.” 

He kept his eyes averted from Cècile’s gaze for the duration of dinner. However, Phil watched her face hard, searching for any signs that she recognized Dan. Nobody said much until their dinner came. Dan held the silverware as if it were made of ice, and chewed the food in tiny pieces. If only he would stop being so nervous, perhaps Phil’s nosy fiancé wouldn’t be so invasive. 

It was as they were starting their last course, the lamb with mint sauce, that Martyn nodded to Phil, who knew it was time. He stood up and tapped on his glass with his spoon. 

“I would like to make an announcement.” He said. Nobody paid him any attention. 

“I would like to make an announcement.” He repeated, a little louder. This time, everybody in the entire dining room stopped talking, and Phil could feel a hundred eyes on him. He turned to Cecile. “I was going to do this later but uh… Cecile,” 

He faltered. There were too many eyes on him, too many judgemental people. Then, his eyes fell on Dan, who was looking at him not with judgement, but plain curiosity. Dan noticed he was looking at him and smiled, flashing Phil a thumbs up. 

“Since I met you,” He said, still looking at Dan. “My life has changed. You have introduced to me a new world, one I never even knew existed. You’ve taught me about love, laughter and most importantly, letting go. You’ve given me hope, you’ve listened to me, and you’ve supported me. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed spending time with you and, if you’ll have me, I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you. I know we’re just at the beginning of this grand adventure of a shared life together, but you truly have made my life, a life so changed.”  
He looked back at Cecile, whose face was a mixture of shock, awe, embarrassment and happiness. He walked over behind her and pulled out the string of pearls. 

“Cecile Marie DuPont,” He said, fastening the pearls around her neck. “Will you marry me?” 

The entire dining room held it’s breath. Cecile touched the pearls, and looked up at Phil with tears in her eyes. 

“Phil… of course!” 

A few approving murmurs sounded throughout the dining room, and people went back to their own meals. Phil sat back down, feeling both weightless and heavy. He looked over at Dan who smiled back with a slightly confused expression. 

The meal moved on from there, and dessert was brought to them. Cecile continued to glow with happiness under the string of $32,000 pearls, but Phil could barely manage a smile. 

“So,” Cecile said, as she was finishing her chocolate eclairs. “Daniel James, where did you say you were from?”

“Oh… here and there.” Dan said, not meeting her eyes. 

“Is zat so? Zat’s not very specific.” Phil glared at her, wishing she would stop talking to Dan. He’d made it this far without his identity being uncovered. 

Dan shrugged. “I was born in a boring little town. I left when I was pretty young.” 

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What do your parents do?”

“My father ran a small publishing company. We lived on an old farm and he converted the barn into a printing press.” 

Phil’s mother smiled. “That sounds lovely.”

“Sounds like new money.” Cècile whispered under her breath. Phil shot her a nasty look. 

“Cècile do you have something to say?” He said. Any lingering sentiment over the engagement had vanished between them and he looked at her with open contempt. She glared back at him. 

“Yes, Philip I do. I remember where I know your good friend Daniel James from. Isn’t he zat third class passenger you were talking to ze other night?” 

Phil wanted to strangle her. Dan’s face burned and his eyes darted around the table nervously. 

Mrs. Lester put down her fork. “Daniel you didn’t mention you were from third class… How fascinating!”

“Are you finding the steerage accommodations to your liking, sir?” The captain asked. 

“The best I’ve seen yet. Hardly any rats, sir.” 

A couple people around the table chuckled nervously, unsure if this was a joke or not.

Mrs. Lester smiled. “Well I wish you’d told us sooner, Daniel. We don’t interact with too many steerage passengers. You must have so many interesting stories.”

“Oh not really ma’am.” 

She looked disappointed, which he sensed. 

“What I find hard is figuring out where one story ends and another begins. I mean, just the other day I was gambling for my dinner and on my way to Southampton, and now I’m dining with you people aboard the greatest ship in the world. Life's funny like that, and I live for those funny moments.” 

Phil smiled. He hadn’t realized it but he’d been holding his breath the entire time. After that moment of dark tension, the conversation loosened up and everyone at the table began to engage Dan in conversation. No more invasive questions were aimed at the boy and Cècile sat brooding silently the entire time. Once they’d finished their dessert, they wished the captain good evening, Dan shook his hand and they all went back to their cabins. The three of them, Dan, Phil and Cècile walked to the couple’s cabin.

“I’m going to escort Daniel back to his cabin if you don’t mind, dear.” Phil said to his fiance. She folder her arms. 

“Daniel can find his way back to steerage just fine. I want to ‘ave a word with you.” She said the words ‘Daniel’ and ‘steerage’ like they were the most disgusting things a person could think of. 

“Alright, well, I feel like I shouldn’t get in the middle of this. Goodnight Phil,” Dan said, shaking his friend’s hand. Phil stared at him, trying to communicate that he shouldn’t leave him alone with Cècile through eye contact. Dan just smiled and left. 

 

Phil and Cecile sat in the cabin, Phil at the desk arranging Cecile’s pearls in a box and Cecile on the loveseat, brushing her long brown hair. They had been avoiding conversation, pretending to be busy with what they were doing. When she finally broke the heavy air of silence sitting between them, her voice was cold and cutting. “So, did your little poor friend have fun tonight?” 

“Why were you talking to him like that?” Phil snapped.

“Because ‘e’s nothing but a poor, dirty lowlife bottom sucker. People are going to talk.” 

“What they will be talking about, Cecile, is the fact that I asked you to marry me. And besides, what are they going to say? Philip Lester befriended somebody from third class whom he enjoys talking to?” Phil said. 

“Zats exactly what zey are going to say.” She said. Phil looked away. “Philip, look, I'm sorry I'm just looking out for you. I don't want people to talk about us. Zey already have enough to say about everyone else.” 

“Yeah well, maybe I don’t care what they say!”

“I cannot deal with you right now!” She shouted, storming into the bedroom and slamming the door. 

Phil was tempted to slam his own forehead against the desk. He stared sullenly at the pearls. $32,000 for the woman he was to spend eternity with. He ran his thumb over the smooth surface of one of the pearls and thought about that he and Dan could do with $32,000. They would travel, first all over America then back to Europe, and possibly down to Africa, too, then maybe over to India. Dan would have wonderful, interesting things to say about each place they visited, and better yet, nobody would know who Phil was.  
He sat there, absorbed in that daydream for a while until Cecile opened the door. 

“Philip?” Her tone had changed entirely. “Come to bed, dear.” 

She stood in the bedroom doorway. Phil ducked his head even closer to the pearls on the table, so he didn’t have to look at her. She was wearing a red bathrobe and her brown hair hung in loose curls framing her face. 

“No thanks, I think I'll stay up awhile.” He said.

She walked closer and placed a soft hand on his shoulder. He turned his head. 

“Remember when our families took zat vacation to Quebec City together? And we ‘ad a picnic on ze Saint Lawrence?” She said. 

“Vaguely.” He replied, still not facing her. 

“And when we got caught in ze rain outside zat little cafe in Lyon?”

“I guess.”

“I do, because you picked me up and carried me back to our room so I wouldn’t get my shoes wet.” She said. 

“Yeah but I got soaked.” Phil smiled. The memory pushed it’s way through the reluctant wall Phil had built himself. 

“Zat’s one of my favorite memories.”

“Mine too.” 

She let her hand travel from his shoulder down his arm and into his hand. He had never realized how tiny her hands were compared to his. He wrapped his fingers around her’s. 

“I’m sorry if I made you think I am ungrateful with ze engagement. I thought it was very sweet, dear.” She whispered. 

“Mmhm.” 

She sighed. “And I’m sorry if your... friend feel unwelcome. Per’aps I was just jealous because I didn’t want ‘im stealing my special moment. You are only engaged once, you know.”

 _Oh believe me, I know._ Phil thought. 

Slowly, she brought his hand up and placed it on her bare breast. He kept his head turned but made no effort to move his hand. There was that feeling of the walls closing in on him again.

“I don’t want our first night together as fiances to be angry. Come to bed, dear.” She said again. This time Phil got up and followed her into the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind them. 

All he could think about was Dan tripping down those stairs.


	5. Part 1: The Ship, Chapter 5

The next morning Cècile nudged Phil awake, giggling and giving him little pecks on the cheek. He tried to brush her off but she laughed and pinned him down on the bed, covering his face in kisses. Though she never directly apologized for humiliating and insulting his friend, she never brought it up, and seemed much more at ease. Perhaps it was because everyone now knew they were to be married. Phil lay in bed as Cecile kissed him, staring blankly at the canopy above his head. This was the first morning of his life as Phil Lester: Married Man. 

The newly engaged couple dressed and ate a quick breakfast, then left the cabin to meet Phil’s mum and some of her friends. That day they were to meet ship’s architect and builder, Thomas Andrews, who had been close friends with Phil’s father in university, and was now a good friend of the Lester clan. Andrews was a small man with no distinguishable features and neat grey hair. He talked with an Irish accent and wrung his hands a lot, as if he was nervous. He led the group of first class passengers around the ship, seeming to have a little something to say about the designs behind everything. 

Even though they had been on the ship for two days now, it was still fascinating. Phil watched the crew members putter around on the deck, and wondered if any of them were like Dan. Not possible, he decided. Penniless wayward drifters were a dime a dozen but someone like Dan was one in a million. As the group walked past the neat row of lifeboats lining the side of the promenade, Phil suddenly remembered a question he’d had since the beginning of the voyage. A question that had arisen as he perused the first few pages of Futility, and which had not sunk back down. 

“Sir…” He said, pushing his way to the front of the group. “This ship… it’s truly a feat of engineering and design.”

“That she is, my boy, that she is.” Andrews said, his chest puffing out in pride. 

“Is it true she’s unsinkable?”

Andrews nodded. “Not even God himself could bring ‘er under.” 

“How many lifeboats are there?” Phil asked.

Andrews was a little surprised by this question. First class passengers didn’t often ask about the lifeboats. He thought for a bit. “Well… let’s see ah… 20, I believe?”

“And each can carry how many passengers?” A few people behind Phil began to whisper impatiently. Andrews, however, listened to his question patiently, then answered.

“Their maximum capacity is 59 passengers, sir.”

Phil quickly did the math in his head. “That means there’s only room for 1,178 passengers or so. That’s only one third of the ship. How-”

Andrews looked nervous. “Let’s move on.”

“But-”

“Who would like to see the boiler room?” He asked.

“Don’t worry, Philip. Ze man did say she was unsinkable. Zose lifeboats will never ‘ave to be used anyway.” Cècile said as Andrews led the group away from the boats. She smiled and took his arm. He brushed her off. 

“You go ahead. I’ll be along in just a moment.” 

She looked up at him, with a hurt expression. He wrapped his arm stiffly around her waist and kissed her on her powdered cheek. She smiled smugly and walked off to join Mrs. Lester and the rest of the group. Phil stared at the lifeboats. One third of the ship… 1,178 passengers. The ship pushed her way bullishly through the water, the ever present hum of the engine dimly audible. They would never have to be used… 

“Man, I’ve seen store mannequins kiss better than that.” 

Phil spun around.“Who- oh, hello Dan.” 

Dan smiled. He looked even more ragged and windswept than before, which left Phil to wonder if he’d spent another night outside. “I just wanted to give this back to you. I didn’t get a chance to last night.” He held out Phil’s suit, which he had folded neatly. 

“Oh... thanks.” Phil said. 

They stood in awkward silence for a while. 

“Hey… how did that go last night?” Dan asked. “Your fiance seemed pretty upset last I saw her.”

“Oh, uh, we made up. I mean… she forgave me. It’s alright now.” Phil hoped he didn’t look as flustered as he felt. Dan stared at him with an unreadable expression, but didn’t question much more. “Thank you, by the way, for being there for me.”

“It was my pleasure, Phil Lester.” Dan said. “Although, I didn’t think you were going to what you did, not in a million years.” 

“Oh? What did you think I was going to do?” Phil asked.

Dan shrugged. “I don’t know. Disown them all, tell them how you really feel…”

“How I really feel? Dan, that’s quite a thing to say. I like my family, I’m happy…” Phil said. 

“If you say so… anyway, care to walk with me for a while?”

The two began strolling the deck. Dan offered Phil a cigarette, which he accepted. After a few unsuccessful attempts from Dan at changing the conversation, Phil stopped walking. Something was still eating away at him. “Hey, Dan?”

“Yes?”

“Listen, I feel really bad about last night.” Phil frowned and looked away. “I feel like you were targeted and made to feel very uncomfortable, and I feel really terrible that I made you go through that.”

“Feel terrible? Don’t be. Had the time of my life with your folks. And that Cecile! She looked a radiant star under all those pearls. Better hope she doesn’t fall in though, she’ll sink right to the bottom.”

Phil ignored the joke. “No, please, I feel terrible. Can I make it up to you somehow?”

Dan thought for a second. “Okay, we can meet up again tonight on one condition: I choose what we do.”

“That’s fair.” Phil said.

“Meet me at the bow of the ship at 10 tonight?” Dan asked. 

“10? That's awfully late… What will we be doing?”

Dan smiled mysteriously. “That’s up to me.”

“Do I need to bring anything?” Phil asked.

“I got it covered, just come to the bow of the ship and come alone.” Dan said. 

“Got it, I guess...” 

The two leaned against the railing overlooking the beautiful glittering ocean before them. Phil had come to find the ocean was almost addicting to watch. Every ripple, dip and glint caught his eye, and the curious child in him searched for dolphins and whales that might peek their heads out of the water. Had the two not been so engrossed in the beauty that lay before them, they might have noticed how close they were standing, or that Dan's fingers were lightly resting on Phil’s hand. 

“God, how could I ever have said I would be bored on a ship like this? This is amazing.” He said. 

“Yeah well, it helps to have a friend with you. I'm sure it'd be a lot less fun without you.” Dan said, catching his eye. He gave him that long meaningful look again and Phil smiled back. 

The perfect moment was interrupted by two large men, who ran up on deck. If Dan looked out of place in his shabby clothes, these men looked practically alien. One of them spotted Dan. 

“There he is! Come back you cheating worm!” 

“Gotta go! I’ll see you tonight! Remember, 10 pm, bow of the ship.” Dan shouted to Phil as he dashed off, pursued by the two men.

 

This time, Phil made an excuse to Cècile ahead of time. She didn’t look very convinced when he told him he was going out to play cards with some other gentlemen on the ship but she shrugged and went back to brushing her hair at the vanity table.

“I didn’t know you liked to play cards, Philip. You take joy in zat lowly activity?” 

“Well it was their idea. And they’re gentlemen, it’s not like we’re going to be gambling or anything.” Phil said. 

Cecile walked over to him and began playing with his hair. “It's awfully late to be going out...Who is it you’re going out with again?”

“Oh… just some people I met today. You wouldn’t know them.” He said. The loveseat he was sitting on felt like a slab of concrete. Cecile’s hands traveled down from his head to his shoulders, which she began massaging. 

“Oh?”

“It’s a big ship, Cècile. There are lots of people you don’t know.” He said. 

She shrugged again. “Just don’t be out too late. I will be with Esther and Beatrice tonight, in Esther’s cabin. You know who Esther Hewitt is, don’t you.”

“Of course. She’s Mr. Salisbury’s mistress. Salisbury is the one who inherited that railroad fortune and whose wife and kids are back in London.” Phil said, as if reading from a cue card. He hated that he knew all that about a person he barely knew or cared about, and he hated that they probably knew just as much about him. 

Cecile laughed. “You remember all zat about a person but you don’t remember where ze engine room is on zis ship?”

Phil rolled his eyes. She’d been teasing him about “getting lost” since he rejoined the group after seeing Dan. “What time is it?”

“It is 9:50.”

Phil glanced back into the mirror again for the hundredth time. He found himself nervous for his meeting up with Dan. He arranged his hair and ran a comb through it one last time, then checked his shirt to make sure there weren’t any stains or something clinging to the fabric that he’d missed. When he was certain he looked meticulous, he left the cabin closing the door quietly behind him. 

“Don’t be late!” His fiance called after him. He didn’t say anything back. 

Dan sat at the bow of the ship, legs hanging overboard. Oddly enough there was nobody else on deck. He hadn’t looked at a map, but he estimated they were right in the middle of the north Atlantic. Out in the distance he could see faint outlines of  
icebergs peppering the horizon. He checked his new pocketwatch, one of the many prizes he’d won gambling in the third class lounge. 10:01 pm. Phil came running up behind him, panting, his hair falling into his face. 

“I’m so sorry… I’m late…” He wheezed. Dan laughed. 

“No worries, mate.” He said. Phil sat down next to Dan, copying him by dangling his legs over the edge of the ship. 

“So what was your great idea?”

Dan smiled. He reached into a paper sack he had next to him and pulled out a bottle of tequila, which glinted mischievously in the moonlight. “I don’t know how much it takes for you to get drunk. I wasn’t exactly thinking we’d get black out  
hammered, though. Just pleasantly buzzed. Drink up!” He cracked open the bottle and drank from it. 

“Dan,” Phil gasped. “How did you get this? This stuff isn’t allowed on board! And don’t they check you at insp-”

“Shhh.” Dan said, handing Phil a bottle. “If you know the right guy who knows the right guy… you might be able to score a couple of these at a lucky hand of poker.”

“And you had a lucky hand tonight, I’m guessing?”

“Very lucky.”

“Is that why those men were chasing you down today?”

“Shhh.” Dan said again. “Don’t talk, just drink.”

Phil didn’t want to admit that he’d never so much as taken a sip of tequila in his entire life, so he shrugged and tilted his head back. It was hot and harsh and slid down his throat like hit oil. In all his years of fine wine and champagne, scotch and a few  
rebellious beers in his late teens, nothing like he’d ever drunk before. It was the perfect drink for Dan; rebellious, wild, untethered and promising of new, untold places. Tequila, the drink of outlaws and vagabonds. 

Phil wasn’t as much of a lightweight as Dan had expected him be. He started getting tipsy after a few swigs, but it took finishing half the bottle to get him a little more than what Dan described as “pleasantly buzzed”. Once they’d reached the fun level of intoxication Dan was desiring, he set the almost empty bottle beside him and they lay on their backs and stared at the night sky. Fleecy clouds pushed their way across the sky, and the stars peeked out from around them.

“Getting drunk!” Phil laughed. “That’s your genius idea for tonight.”

“I am a genius.” Dan said back, his words slightly slurred. 

They lay on the deck in silence for a while. 

“D’you ever feel like a fish in a bowl?” Phil asked, his speech equally slurred. 

“No why would I feel like a fish?”

“I feel like a fish all the time, like I’m just swimmin’ around and other people are making decisions for me n’ stuff and I’m just there swimmin’ in circles.” 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m falling.”

“What?”

“Like I’m just free falling and I don’t know what I’m falling toward but there’s nothing to catch me. No net, no nothin’.” Dan could tell through the haze of mild intoxication that there was something different about Phil’s voice. He propped himself up on one elbow and faced Phil, who was still laying on his back. “Y’sound funny…”

“I’m kind of drunk right now, you idiot.” He said defensively. 

“No no, s’your voice. There’s something different about it.”

“What’s so different about it?”

“I dunno… y’have an accent.”

“A British accent?”

“No, fuck you, I know what a british accent sounds like.” Dan thought for a while. “It’s a funny one… but it’s nice and it reminds me of the woods.”

“I’m from the north?” Phil said. 

“That’s it! Y’have a northern accent!”

“Oh,” Phil said, disappointed.

“What’s wrong?” Dan asked. 

“I was hopin’ you’d say scottish. I love scottish accents.”

“You sound great though why don’t you always talk like that?”

“I guess I never noticed. ‘s subconscious I guess. I haven’t talked like that since I was a boy… my dad talked like that…” Phil said. Another thought came to him. “You know, part of the reason nobody knew you were… third class last night at dinner was because you sounded so fancy.” 

“Don’t even… I hate my accent so much, Phil. I can’t help it and no, I don’t know why I talk this way.”

“Are you kidding?” Phil said. “I love the way you talk. I wish we could trade. See, I had to take speaking lessons from this terribly mean teacher who’d whack me across the wrists if I slipped back into my old accent…”

“That’s awful.” Dan said. 

They sat in silence for a while, watching the constellations swim in and out between clumps of wispy clouds. 

“Your wife talks with an accent.” Dan said, jealous in his drunken stupor. 

“She’s french, stupid.”

Dan broke out into laughter. He laughed until his sides hurt and soon Phil joined in. The laughed until tears ran down their face. Dan tried to catch his breath. He took a moment to just watch Phil, how happy he was at that moment. Amidst all their  
happiness, he found himself wishing with an ache in his heart that Phil could always be this joyful and carefree.

Phil was still laying down, but when he saw Dan turned towards him, he also sat up propped on one elbow. All traces of laughter left both of their faces, as they stared into each other’s eyes. They both seemed to be searching for something. Phil reached up and took Dan’s hand, laying it gently on the ground, and laid his hand on top of it. Phil’s hand was warm and strong, and electricity jumped from it up Dan’s arm and pierced his heart.

 _His eyes are such a nice color._ Dan thought. A few locks of Phil’s hair, which he usually kept pushed back, had slipped onto his forehead. Without thinking, Dan reached out and brushed the hair back into place. 

“I don’t think I love her.” Phil said softly. 

“Well, who do you love?” Dan asked, only half paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth. 

Instead of answering, Phil leaned in closer. He reached over and brushed Dan's cheek, letting his palm linger on the smoothness of his skin. Dan didn’t object. Their faces were so close now that Dan could feel Phil’s warm breath on his mouth. Phil placed a finger under his chin and tilted his head back a little bit, and Dan in response wrapped one hand around the back of Phil's neck, almost pulling him closer. Everything seemed right. Something inside Phil that had been sleeping his entire life woke up, and reached for Dan.

They had almost closed the space between them entirely when the ship's horn blasted out across the night sky, shocking them and snapping reality back into place. Phil’s eyes widened and they both quickly pulled away. Dan’s elbow knocked the long  
forgotten bottle of Tequila into the ocean. He felt his face burn. What was that? Oh, God what were they doing? There were a few seconds of painfully awkward silence between them.

“Ah… well… I should be going.” Phil stammered.

“Yeah.” Dan said, still not meeting his eyes. He didn't want Phil to leave, but at the same time he needed him to go.

“I’ll uh... see you around I guess.” Phil said. 

“Yep.” Dan said. 

Phil got up and left. Dan wanted to hurl himself over the side of the ship. How could he have been so stupid? What was he even thinking? It made him feel sick to his stomach, how he'd gone in like that, but what made him feel worse was how badly he had wanted to close the gap between their lips. Even now his lips throbbed thinking about it. As if Phil would have ever let him do that. Phil wasn’t like Dan. He couldn’t just go around kissing whoever he pleased. In the world of Philip Michael Lester, kissing another man, and a poor one at that was simply unheard of. And what would his family say? He couldn’t put Phil through that. He didn’t hate himself for what he’d almost done. He hated himself because of who he’d wanted to do it with. Philip Lester. Kissing him.

As if. 

He spent yet another sleepless night on the decks of the ship, his thoughts tossing and turning like waves, with Phil Lester riding on top of them.


	6. Part 1: The Ship, Chapter 6

Phil staggered back to his cabin and tried to get ready for bed as quietly as possible. His hands were shaking slightly as he undressed. Creeping across the dark cabin, he splashed some cold water on his face, praying the smell of alcohol didn’t still cling to him. It was 12:15, and thankfully his fiance was fast asleep. He crawled in bed next to her, knowing he wouldn’t sleep at all that night. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, just as he had started his day. He was thinking of everything and nothing. What had happened out there?

_I’m drunk._ He thought. _And so is Dan. Otherwise that would not have happened._

That… whatever had happened was completely by mistake. It wouldn’t have happened if they were sober.

_But what if it had?_ A small part of him dared to ask. Something large in his life that had always felt out of place had suddenly fallen into place, and it scared Phil. It was something he had never even fathomed, something he did not know could happen. Could it happen? Dan was a 20 year old third class passenger with no home, no family and not a dime to his name. Plus, he was a man. And Phil… he was a 24 year old first class passenger who was trapped in a loveless relationship and yearning to break away from the bonds that tied him down. There was almost something forbiddingly romantic about it. It was unheard of, two men loving each other. Especially if one of them was practically an heir and one of them was dirt poor.   
Amidst the haze of confusion his mind was trying to work through, there was a small glimmer of light. It was tiny, but Phil realized that what he had felt with Dan explained why he was never happy with Cècile, or any girl he’d courted in the past. Dan’s face had been so soft. His palm seemed to burn where he had cupped the man’s cheek, and he rubbed it furiously, trying to get the feeling to go away. Dan’s lips looked so sweet and chapped, so inexplicably inviting. Especially when he had tilted his head back and Phil got a nice view of his jawline…

Oh god, what was wrong with him? People weren’t supposed to feel this way! His emotions were all mixed up. He was supposed to prefer spending time with Cècile, his future wife, and resent the poor third class steerage passenger who’d offered him a cigarette the first night aboard. Phil tossed and turned, his mind tormented by confusing thoughts until the early morning sun peeked through the curtains. When Cècile woke a couple hours later, she shook him gently. He mumbled that he’d had trouble sleeping the night before and had gone to bed late, which was partially true. He rolled onto his stomach and squeezed his eyes shut. Sometime during the night, his intoxication had morphed into a blinding, nauseating headache. He lay in bed half awake as the maid helped her dress in her corset and petticoat, and finally a white ruffled dress with a deep purple sash and purple accents. He nearly groaned out loud. Every sound, even the rustle of fabric as Cecile slipped the magnificent dress over her head, brought on a new wave of nausea for Phil. She left the cabin and Phil finally fell asleep out of pure exhaustion. 

His dreams were almost as troubled as his conscious thoughts. 

He had no recollection of what he dreamed of, but he woke up panting and covered in a cold sweat, the bed sheets tangled around his legs. The sun had moved past the curtains and now sat high in the sky, indicating that it was it was around noontime, maybe even past that. The maid looked alarmed when Phil violently awoke from his nightmare, but, well trained to be domicile, she merely gestured to the clothes Cecile had picked out for him and went back to dusting.   
Phil stood up, and the floor seemed to rush up to meet him before he caught himself.e barely made it into the bathroom where he vomited into the shiny porcelain toilet bowl. As he leaned over the bowl he had to wonder; was he so ill because of the hangover, or was there something deeper inside him, a realization whose psychological effects had turned physical?

Ignoring the pounding headache, which now threatened his every movement, he shakily stood up and went back to the room where he dressed, and, because he wanted to pretend everything was still perfectly normal, decided to catch up with Martyn for lunch. He knew easily where to find his brother. Ever since he’d arrived, Martyn had spent most of his time on deck, like Phil, playing cards with other first class passengers.

Sure enough, he was there. He smiled and set down his cards when he saw Phil.

“Brother! How are you doing, Philip? You look a little tired.”

Phil subconsciously reached up rubbed the dark bags under his eyes. “Care to grab some lunch?” 

 

“So how have you been?” Martyn asked, as the waiter set down their plates of food. 

“I’ve been better honestly…” Phil answered. He sounded like he’d been gargling gravel. 

Martyn looked closer at him, took in the disheveled hair and sleepless eyes and said, “Is something troubling you?”

Phil hesitated, not sure how to word what he was about to ask. “You and your friends… you have been friends for many years, right?”

“Don’t you remember? Julian was the best man at my wedding. And Andrew-”

“Yeah, yeah… “ Phil said, waving him off. “Did anything ever… happen between you? While you were drunk?”

Martyn leaned in closer. “Well, don’t tell mum but one time Julian and I, this was back at Oxford, mind you, we ended up accidentally setting fire to one of the men’s lavatories…”

“Never mind.” Phil sighed. 

“How’s Cecile?” Martyn asked, taking a bite of food. Phil shrugged. 

“Alright, I guess.” Something dawned on him. He sat up a little bit straighter. “Martyn, did you ever feel… weird while you were engaged? About getting married to… a woman?”

Martyn broke into full on laughter, shocking the other people at tables around them. “My baby brother! 24 years and still so naive about the way the world works! Every man feels nervous right before his wedding! It’s natural! But worry not, I was nervous and look at me now, happily married to the finest girl in England. Don’t you worry about you and Cecile. She’s a great girl, she really is.”

“Well yeah, I guess I’m nervous. But I meant weird as in weird feelings for people… for your friends perhaps?”

Martyn made a strange face and Phil let the conversation drop. He sighed and rubbed his temples, praying the pounding feeling in his head would go away.

“How’s that friend of yours anyway? The one you took to dinner, Daniel James or whatever his name was?”

“He’s fine.” Phil said quickly, looking away. Martyn didn’t seem to get the hint that Phil didn’t want to talk about it. He ventured on. 

“Really, I was so surprised to hear he was from steerage. We all were. He’s a handsome chap isn’t he? Must be very popular with the ladies. And his voice! He’s very eloquent. No, that’s not the word… articulate! Yes, very articulate.”

Thinking of Dan’s posh articulation only brought back painful memories of the confusing moment that had happened right after that conversation. 

“...In fact, if Cecile hadn’t recognized him from steerage I’d think he was born sucking on a silver spoon.” 

“Martyn I don't want to talk about him.” Phil said through gritted teeth. Martyn seemed to take the hint this time and backed off. 

They chatted some more after that, Martyn trying his best to not bring up Dan or Cecile. They talked about England and mum and dad and how wonderful the ship was and how great America was going to be. Finally, after sensing that Phil's heart just wasn't into the conversation, he got up to leave. 

“Well, I'd best be going now.” He said, standing up and stretching. Phil cast a disappointed look up to his older brother. Even though he'd been distant, he liked the distraction. “Oh, and some black coffee and a cold shower will do wonders for that hangover of yours.” He laughed and winked before leaving Phil to his thoughts. 

 

Phil had been sitting on the sun deck for hours, his hat and glasses doing little to shield the setting sun from his sensitive eyes. Soon it would be time for him to go into that big, crowded, lonely dining room and sit down to another extravagantly tasteless meal with people he barely liked. He sighed. Ditching Cecile and his family, especially for the sunny deck and endless ocean had become a habit. He was about to get up and leave, when to his horror he saw Dan step on deck. Phil pulled his hat farther over his face and hunched over in his chair, trying to look as if he were asleep. Silence. He opened one eye and realized Dan hadn’t noticed him. Warily, he watched as Dan walked over to the rail overlooking the sinking sun, where he folded his arms and rested his head down on them. Poor Dan looked exhausted, and Phil wondered if he too had had a sleepless night. Probably. 

Phil stood up and removed his hat and glasses, intending to slip away to dinner, unseen. Because everything was going against his favor that day, it was only natural that Dan looked up suddenly and met his eyes. Phil’s stomach dropped to the floor. No, he couldn't do this. He had to be away from him, from those tired brown eyes that he once almost fell into. He turned and broke into a run, carelessly pushing past other people who were walking, which earned him many offended shouts and remarks. He knew Dan had noticed him. He knew Dan would want to talk to Phil. He rounded a corner and thought he'd gotten away when he heard Dan calling his name.   
"Phil!"

No. Not now. Phil had to get away. He couldn't talk to Dan. Not now not ever. How could he ever look at his features, his eyes, his lips, his jawline, without wanting to take them in his hands and kiss them? He kept running. He traveled through so many winding hallways and down so many flights of stairs he wasn't even sure he knew where he was going. Surely he'd lost Dan now. 

He got to the end of the hallway. There was only one door, a large iron monstrosity which was surprisingly unlocked. He slipped through it and prayed Dan wasn't following him. It was dark inside and he blindly groped the wall for a light switch. His hand met something, a large industrial type light switch, and the chamber filled with yellow light. The room was huge, with high ceilings packed top to bottom with giant crates. Phil realized he must be in cargo. He hadn't really grasped how staggeringly huge the ship was until he entered that room. In one corner sat a car- an actual car- leaning against a couple more giant crates. Phil ran to the car, reckoning he could hide in it, but hadn't even opened the door when Dan burst in, scanning the room quickly and finding Phil. Phil didn't even have time to run before Dan grabbed his shoulders and pinned him against the car. 

"You cannot do that, Phil. You can't just almost... kiss me and then avoid me the rest of the time we're on this ship." He said. 

"Shut up! I wasn't avoiding you..." Phil lied. 

"Is that so? That's not what it seemed like to me." Dan squeezed his shoulders tighter and Phil began to pray to every known deity in existence to kill him right then and there. 

“And what did it seem like to you, huh?” He asked.

Seems to me like you tried to kiss me, Philip Lester.” 

“S-stop saying that word.” He stammered, turning red. “It's unnatural and it isn't what happened.”

“Oh, really?” Dan said. 

"I don't even know what happened last night." Phil pleaded. 

"I think you do." Dan said.

"I don't... I'm so confused Dan, please. Being around you is so confusing and I just can't think about what happened last night."

"You sound like a bloody twat Phil." Dan grumbled. "Look, you're the only friend I've made on this dump ship and maybe ever. I'm sorry for screwing it up with you but if you could please listen to me and talk things through."

Phil looked away, visibly very uncomfortable. "I can't... I can't..."

Dan rolled his eyes. Phil was being stubborn like a child. Social status be damned, why couldn't he just talk? After a long sleepless night Dan had figured everything out, why couldn't Phil? 

He let go of Phil, but instead of bolting like he thought he would, Phil just leaned against the car and sighed. 

"You want me to figure it out?" He said, still not looking at Dan. 

"Yes. Can we talk civilly? For a moment?" 

"We can't talk." Phil muttered. 

Dan closed his eyes and sighed, figuring their friendship was ruined forever. Then Phil kissed him.


	7. Part 1: The Ship, Chapter 7

There's a certain point when you have to stop denying. When you come to terms with who you are. When you mutter "forget it" and boldly, mindlessly cross that point of no return.

In the moment before Phil kissed Dan, he realized three things at the very same time. 

Number one. Dan had already crossed that point of no return when he pinned Phil against that goddamn car. Maybe Phil had already crossed it the night before when he leaned in so close. Nevertheless, that line had been crossed and there was no going back. 

Number two. Dan would never leave him alone if he didn't work this out somehow. And, even if he managed to escape Dan, he would never escape from his feelings. From the dreadful what could have been. 

Number three. He really, really wanted to kiss Dan. 

Phil's lips were soft and not unlike what Dan had dared himself to imagine them to be like. When the shock of being kissed passed, he found himself kissing Phil back, sliding his hands off the man's shoulders down his back until they rested just above his hips.

Phil’s mind was a swirling mass of conflicting emotions of which only one thing was certain:

He was kissing Dan. 

Dan was kissing him.

Dan slid his arms down Phil's back and pressed him even harder into the car. He smiled against Dan's mouth. Dan's lips were chapped and rough, and Phil found it strangely addicting.

At that moment he thought of nothing. Not that he was a man kissing another man, not that they were crossing the Atlantic on the grandest ship in history, nor that he had a fiance who was probably wondering where he was. His mind was wiped blank and he felt nothing but bliss, and the feeling that something inside had clicked fully into place. He was certain that he was made to be with Dan. He wasn't sure about the other parts of his life but he knew Dan's arms were where he supposed to be. 

That kiss was so many things for Phil. It was perfect, it was experimental, it was forbidden, it was passionate, it was over all too quickly. 

When they broke apart, Dan slapped Phil. 

“Ow! Jesus, what was that for?” Phil asked, still a little dizzy from the kiss. He reached up and gingerly touched the tender spot on his cheek, then his even more tender lips. Had he really just kissed Dan?

“Fuck you Phil Lester…”

“What?” Phil asked, a little hurt. 

“Was that supposed to help me feel better? Was that supposed to answer all my questions and magically resolve everything? Was that supposed to make me any less confused? Because news flash, friend, it didn’t.”   
Still blushing furiously from the kiss, he turned around and shouted “Fuck you!” Into the dark, vast cargo chamber. His words echoed off the walls a seemingly infinite amount of times, each one reminding Phil of just how in trouble they were. Fuck you… you… you…

“I-I don’t know what came over me, Dan. Honest.” He didn’t dare mention that Dan had seemed to enjoy the kiss just as much as he had. 

Dan looked back at him. “Phil, we need to sit down and have a long talk, figure out where the hell we’re going from here.” 

Phil nodded. “I think I know a place we can go.” 

Even before they got to Phil’s cabin, they both knew exactly how their “conversation” was going to go. 

 

It was dark when they entered. Cècile was out for the night and hopefully wouldn’t be returning any time soon. The beds were made, the floor swept and the radiator in the corner hissed, filling the small room with warm dry heat. Phil took Dan's hand and silently lead him to the red velvet love seat in the middle of the room. not really aware of what he was doing. He did, however, take care to lock the door behind them, lest the maid- or worse- his fiancé came back. 

Dan looked around, and his eyes fell on the loveseat. 

“You know,” He said, sitting down and stroking the fabric. “Women used to use these to hold their gigantic dresses on when they were getting ready.”

“God, I believe it.” Phil said, sitting next to him. “Cecile always…”

“No offense Philip, but if you talk about that woman one more time I very well may strangle you.”

“Fair enough. What would you like to talk about?” 

Instead of answering, Dan leaned back on the loveseat and Phil took that as an invitation to pin him against it, covering his jaw and neck in quick hot kisses. Dan gasped, clutching at the back of Phil's hair and the nape of his neck. 

"How are you so good at this?" He moaned. Phil didn't reply, instead he pressed his lips against Dan's, enjoying the rough chappedness. Dan moaned even more and leaned his head back against the seat. Phil worked down his neck to his collarbones, then slowly began to unbutton his shirt.

"Phil should we really be-"

"I don't know if we should be doing anything, but I don't care. I want you, Daniel James Howell. I want you with every fiber of my being."

Dan began to unbutton his shirt, but because of the dim lighting, he had quite a difficult time with the buttons. It was impatient agony for Phil, who almost tore the shirt off Dan himself. He unbuttoned his own shirt and flung Dan flung his own across the room. Then, almost tentatively, Phil pressed his body against Dan's. His skin seemed to come alive at the touch of his. Every square inch where Dan's touched his seemed to ignite, like thousands of tiny sparks all going off at once. Like a fire had suddenly come to life. He didn't know he had so much skin or that it was so... reactive. 

Time passed in this fashion, the two of them savoring each other's beings, kissing and taking moments to stare into each other's eyes before Phil would pin him down with another series of hot kisses. After a while, they just lay there, entwined in each other's arms, simply enjoying one another's presence. They had entered an alternate reality, a parallel universe which consisted of just the two of them and were bound by the confines of the cabin’s four walls. In that moment there was nobody else on earth but Dan and Phil, and the warm hazy dreaminess of what they shared. They were pulled back into the real world by a sharp knocking at the door that cut through the hot air like ice, pulling the men off each other, Dan doing a fantastic somersault of the back of the love seat, and Phil rushing to button his shirt back up. 

"Philip? Are you in zere? I lost my key..." Cècile called, still knocking. Phil cursed under his breath. 

"What should I do?" Dan whispered frantically from his spot on the floor, buttoning his own shirt.

"I-I don't know, I don't-"

"Philip," Cècile said more aggressively, "what is all zat noise?" 

"Coming!" He called, smoothing his hair back into place as he opened the door. She sauntered in and looked around the dim cabin, then back at Phil. 

"What 'ave you been doing?" 

"Oh..." He chuckled nervously. "You know..." Her eyes drifted down to Dan, still awkwardly sitting half sprawled on the floor. 

"Hello, Daniel." She said cooly. 

"Hello Cècile." 

She raised an eyebrow at Phil. "I thought you were going to be out." 

"And I thought you were going to be out."

"I was... but Molly Dawson, from ze room on A-deck cancelled ze bridge game because her husband 'as come down with a terrible cold. Poor thing." 

"Poor thing." Dan echoed quietly, snapping Cecile's attention back to him. 

"What is ‘e doing here, Philip?" 

"Uh..."

"Philip here invited me in for some brandy." Dan said, getting up and dusting himself off. "We were going to drink outside on deck but you know how cold it gets."

"Funny." She said skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "Philip, I didn't know you drank brandy." 

"I uh... I do now." 

"Interesting..." 

This was followed by the longest stretch of silence Phil had ever experienced. Their eyes darted from one another, nobody knowing quite how to fill the awkward airless silence. He could feel Cecile's stare Pierce right through his soul. Surely, she knew what they'd been up to. 

“Well.” Cècile said finally. “You should walk Daniel back to his cabin now. You both could use ze fresh air.” 

Phil reached up self consciously and touched his hot face. 

“Right… That sounds like a good idea.” 

“As for me, it appears I ‘ave left my shawl in Molly’s cabin and must go retrieve it now.” She was uncharacteristically calm.

The trio made their way outside the cabin and Phil shut the door softly. 

“Goodnight,” she said. She walked down the hall a few paces, then turned around. “And by ze way darling, your shirt is on inside out. In fact, both of your shirts are… how strange.”

Dan waited until she was out of sight before exhaling a breath of held air and murmuring in a shaky voice, “I have to use the loo,”

“Dan-” Phil said, taking his hand. Dan’s hand jerked away as if it had touched live flame and he glanced down the hallway. 

“Phil.” 

“We really do need to talk about this, Dan.” 

Dan sighed again. “I know, just… let me compose myself, then we can talk.” He said. Phil understood, and nodded to him as ducking back inside the cabin.

That left just Phil outside, thinking about what had just happened, not knowing how to feel. Since that moment when he’d decided to press his lips to Dan, since he’d crossed that inevitable point of no return, he’d just felt… numb. Nothing felt real anymore. Only Dan’s touch made him feel alive, but in such a surreal way. And he didn't trust Cecile. She had been so calm about the whole thing. It made him uneasy. 

Dan tapped him on the shoulder, making him jump. “Let’s get out of here.” He said. 

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Literally any place on earth but this.”

 

The stars were hardly visible through the fleecy clouds and a cold North Atlantic wind cut across the ship. They lay on their backs with their feet dangling over the edge of the bow, staring at the patchy sky above them, fingers lazily entwined. 

“This doesn’t feel real.” Phil said. 

“Feels real enough to me.”

“This… my whole life has changed, Dan, do you realize?” 

Dan rolled over and propped his head up with one arm. “That’s what I don’t understand about you, Phil. Before I met you, I thought rich people had it so easy. But it’s like the more time I spend with you and your family, the more I see that you’re more trapped than anybody.”

“Trapped? I wouldn’t say I’m trapped. I’m comfortable. I’ve got meals everyday and a large roof over my head and nice clothes, which is more than most people on this ship could say.” Phil replied defensively. 

“Are you comfortable? Are you really? Because from what I’ve gathered, all you seem to want is to get away.” Dan said matter of factly. 

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Phil rolled Dan’s words around in his head for a bit, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb in Dan’s palm. “You’re too young.” He decided finally. “You’re what, 21?”

“20.” 

“Right. I’m 24. I’ve lived, I’ve experienced things you haven’t. You’ll understand in a couple of years.”

Dan squeezed Phil’s hand. “You’re full of shit. You make four years seem like forty. You’ve experienced things I haven’t… as if.”

Phil shrugged. It’s the truth, Daniel James. Walk a mile in my shoes...”

“Oh really? Let's see… Have you ever had a painting of a nude woman chucked at your head because you left a window open? Have you ever had to lay so still you didn’t dare to breathe because there was a rat the size of a small terrier at the foot of   
your bed? Have you ever had a full grown man cry like a baby and squeeze your hand until it turned white while someone extracted a fishhook from his arm? Have you ever gone without food for seven days because you hadn’t made enough money to feed yourself? Or accepted a ticket from a total stranger to go on a ship because you didn’t know what to do with your life, and you’re petrified you’re going to die and be forgotten? Have you ever watched all seven of your brothers and sisters die from tuberculosis and left home because you knew whenever your parents looked at you, they saw them too and you couldn’t bear to be looked at like that?” Dan’s voice rose steadily as he talked, and by the last example he was speaking in a frantic hysteria.  
“Dan! Daniel, it's okay, I get it.” Phil said softly, taking his shoulders. “I understand.” 

Dan fell back down on his back and trained his eyes at a clear patch of sky. “I don't expect you to.” He said softly. 

Phil thought for a while. “Listen Dan, I know next to nothing about your life. But these past few days with you I feel like I've finally begun living mine.” 

“Glad to hear it.” Dan muttered. His mind was still far away, reliving that traumatic winter where he’d lost all of his siblings to the consumption. 

Phil squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. I guess I don’t understand what you’ve gone through. But I’d like to. Dan, I want to be with you always. You're amazing and you're always so sure of everything, even though I can tell you're scared sometimes. Cècile, my mum, Martyn, they're great, and I love them… But they're nothing compared to you.”

Dan was quiet, and Phil was almost certain he’d fallen asleep, when he said, “In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean, from forth the fatal loins of these two foes a pair of star cross’d lovers take their life…” 

Phil’s jaw dropped to the ground. “Dan, was that Shakespeare?” 

Dan looked uncomfortable. “Well, see, I lived with a troupe of actors in London for a while…”

“I loved Romeo and Juliet.” Phil said. 

“So did I.” Dan said, smiling until another thought struck him. “Are we star crossed lovers, Phil?”

Phil laughed. “I suppose we are. Let’s just agree never to kill ourselves, alright?” 

“Sounds good.” 

“You have taken my life in a way, you know.” Phil said. “You’ve taken everything I thought I knew, all my beliefs…” 

“Oh here we go again.” Dan said. “At least your life had direction. At least you had something to be taken. Me, I feel as though I could fall off the face of the earth at any second, and nobody could care.”

Dan, you're on the greatest ship in the world, you went from sleeping in the broom cupboard of a dingy bar to dining first class with some of the most wealthy people in the world. You're young and you have so many adventures ahead of you. And I'll always be with you. From now on.” Phil said. 

“You can't promise me that.” Dan replied doubtfully. 

“No, I can't, but I'll do my best.” 

The ship’s foghorn blew, a steady baritone noise that echoed across the dark water ahead of them. 

“I should go..” Phil said softly, not wanting to let go of Dan's hand. 

“Yeah, you should.” 

“Want me to walk you back to your cabin?” 

“Nah I'm not tired. There's a lot I have to think about. I don't think sleep’s on the agenda tonight.”

“Same here.”

“Kiss me.” 

Without hesitation, Phil obliged, tenderly cupping Dan’s cheek in his hand, closing his eyes and savoring the gentle sweetness of the kiss. He already felt as though they had a limited number of these. He’d been with Dan less than 24 hours, yet he still   
felt like time was running out. 

Please let time never run out. He prayed as he kissed him. Please let him be mine forever.

When they broke apart, Dan lingered for a bit, leaning in slightly when Phil pulled away. When he realized, he laughed nervously and turned his head away to hide his red cheeks.


	8. Part 1: The Ship, Chapter 8

Phil's chest felt like it was about to burst as he walked back to his cabin and he found himself smiling stupidly. It was quite a stark contrast to how he’d been just 24 hours earlier, drunk and confused and terrified, creeping back to the cabin in shame. He was still confused about how he felt about Dan, but at least he was happy. 

His good mood evaporated the moment he walked through the cabin door. Everything was a mess. It seemed as though Cècile had emptied every drawer and closet in the place. The loveseat in the center of the room was on its side, as was most of other furniture. All the papers from the small desk in the corner had been flung across the room, and so had all their clothes. It was as if a hurricane had hit. He stepped over an overturned drawer sitting on a mountain of papers and his best bow tie, and peeked into the room. Cècile stormed out of their bedroom so fast that Phil jumped. She wasn't in much better shape than the cabin. Mascara mixed with tears drew a smudged path down her cheeks and her hair was coming unpinned, messy brown curls hanging in her face. 

_“Philip! où étais-tu? Et où est ton petit ami? le voleur a volé mon collier!”_ She cried frantically in her native French. Then, she broke down crying in loud ugly sobs that shook her whole body and fat tears that welled up and ran a path down her pale cheek. 

“Calm down, calm down!” He said softly, holding her as she sunk to the floor. “What happened, Cècile? Did you see a rat? Should I call for somebody?”

“N-no,” she blubbered. “My pearls! Zey’re gone!”

Before Phil could say anything, her face morphed from pathetic to angry in less than a second. “ I-it was zat terrible voyou, zat lowlife steerage rat Daniel! ‘e stole my pearls! I know it was ‘im!” 

Phil blinked, surprised at the sudden accusation. “Daniel would never do such a thing, Cècile! How could you say that?”

“Of course you stick up for your flitty little friend, Philip.” She snarled. Phil winced. “But tell me zis: if he didn't do it why did zey go missing right after you ‘ad ‘im in ‘ere for brandy?” 

“You… You don't know that for sure…” 

“Oh really? I ‘ave checked zose pearls practically every hour since you gave zem to me. I checked zem in ze morning, zey were ‘ere. I check zem tonight…” She gestured to the box they were in, now empty and the spot around it looking most  
disheveled of all.

“We still don't know it's Dan who did it!” 

“Zen explain zis!” She cried and threw a small box at him. It bounced off his chest and he stopped to pick it up. He recognized it right away.

“Oh Dan..” He whispered sadly. 

“I found zat, right under ze place we keep ze pearls. Right in plain sight. Can you explain zat?” 

It was Dan's cigarette pack, the one from which Dan had offered him a smoke the night they met. A few cigarettes lay scattered under the desk where the pearls had been kept. The box was crumpled and empty. “But… Dan would never… I was in the room with him the entire time.” 

“Were you?” She said. 

Phil thought. There had been that moment… When Dan had ducked back inside to use the loo…

His heart sank. Could it possibly be true? Cècile, seeming to read his emotions, looked strangely triumphant. 

“When I get my hands on zat voyou ‘e will never see ze shores of America! Or any shores for zat matter. Why I'll throw ‘im overboard myself!” She grabbed her shawl and stormed out of the room. Phil, however had not heard a word she said. He was  
still staring at that crumpled cigarette box, trying to make sense of what had just happened. 

 

Dan, on the other hand, was flying on cloud 9. He didn't believe in soul mates. His life had been spent traveling around, never staying in one place for too long and trying new experiences. He hadn't realized two people could click together so easily  
until that first night when he'd sat with Phil at the very stern of the ship. Now, Dan caught himself fantasizing about stealing Phil away, and going someplace where they could be together. A cottage in the countryside, perhaps. Or better, right in the middle of a crowded city where their identities would be lost amongst the seas of souls. Now, he understood why people would want to settle down, or get married.  
He looked out at sea. The moon was pushing its way up off of the horizon and ducking in and out of the clouds. The water ahead was absolutely pitch black, yet, there was still a determinable difference between it and the sky, which was almost dark navy. It was the sea that pushed them together, he realized. Would they have even crossed paths had they not both been on this ship? Would the special thing they shared exist out there in the real world? 

“I love him.” He said out loud. His words were tinged with wonder at the realization that he had somehow indeed fallen in love with Phil Lester. 

Suddenly, his shoulders were seized by a pair of small but unbelievably strong hands. He was immediately affronted by how forceful they were, and how fast it took them to pin him against the rail on the deck, so he was awkwardly bent over it, the  
back of his head facing the dark water below. A breeze pulled his cap off his head and it fluttered down, landing in the water.

“Cècile?” He sputtered incredulously. 

“‘ello, Daniel James. ‘ow nice to see you again.” She hissed, digging her nails into his shoulders. 

“What are you doing to me?!”

“Listen Daniel,” she said in a low voice, not lightening her grip any. “You ‘ave stolen my ‘usband away from me. I don't know ‘ow or why but before zis trip we were ‘appy. Zen you come along and we never talk now and ‘e’s never around around and we fight… I'm all for Philip ‘aving friends but you, my friend are a ‘orrible influence.

“Not only did you take my ‘usband, you took my jewelry too, you thief, and for that I'm going to make you pay.”

Dan was starting to feel genuinely scared that this small intimidating French girl would push him over the rail, when he heard a voice call out “Stop!”

Phil came running out of the shadows, his face ashen pale. He clutching a small box. In his awkward position, Dan breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thank god Phil, your fiancé is crazy! Help me out, get her off of me!” 

Phil stayed put several feet away, as if he didn't dare get any closer. He looked hurt. “Did you do it, Dan?” He asked softly. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Was this your whole plan all along? Do you belong to some kind of troupe of con artists or something?” 

“I have no idea what you're talking about, but your wife is about to push me off the bloody ship, so if you could pull her off of me, that would be great.” 

Phil hesitated, then took Cecile's shoulders and gently pulled her off of Dan. Dan hovered in an awkward bent position for a second, afraid he might topple overboard but he regained his balance quickly.

“Now can you please tell me what this is all about?” He huffed. 

“As if you don't know! See zat, Philip? ‘e is playing dumb!” Cecile cried. 

“What is she talking about Phil?” Dan pleaded, searching his eyes for any trace of pity or explanation.

“Thief! Thief! You are nothing but a dirty rotten thief!” She screamed at him. 

“What did I do? I haven't taken anything from either of you!” 

“That’s what I want to believe, Dan.” Phil said softly, not looking him in the eye. “But then I found this in the room.”  
He handed Dan the small squashed box he'd been holding. Dan recognized it as his own cigarette box. Instinctively, Dan reached into the pocket in his coat where he usually kept his cigarettes. It was empty. 

“I don't quite understand how you finding my cig box in your cabin, which I was invited into by the way, is compelling evidence toward this supposed “crime” you think I committed.”

“Pretty articulate for a thief.” Cècile muttered. 

Dan rolled his eyes. “As if I haven't heard that one before. You're both acting dramatic and stupid and I'd rather not get involved.”

He was about to go when two burly men in ship’s uniforms came out, jogging toward the trio on deck.

“Oy, what's goin’ on ‘ere? We heard shoutin’. Is everything alright, miss?” One of them asked. 

“Everything's not alright, monsieurs! You see, zis boy broke into my ‘usband and I’s room, stole my pearls zen ran out ‘ere on deck and before I could stop ‘im, ‘e threw zem overboard! $32,000 worth of beautiful pearls! At ze bottom of ze sea!” Cècile  
cried, looking from one officer to the other with large doe eyes welling with tears. 

“That's just- you certainly can't believe that- it's absurd!” Dan sputtered.

One of the officers grabbed Dan roughly by the shoulders. The other one turned to Phil, who was still ashen faced and quiet. 

“Is this true, sir?” 

“He… He was in the room… Before he was in the room the pearls were there. After he left they disappeared, and we don't know where they went…” Phil said. It seemed like he was talking to himself, trying to reason through what had happened. 

“Is that a yes?” 

Phil hesitated before nodding slowly, still looking at the ground. He looked like he was going to throw up, and Dan felt his stomach grow cold. The two men grabbed Dan by his shoulders. He tried to resist but the two men tightened their grip, nearly  
slamming him against the side of the ship. As they were leading him away, Phil shouted “Wait!” He ran up to Dan, who was still being held in place. 

“I have nothing to say to you.” Dan said turning away. 

Phil leaned in closer so the officers couldn't hear. “This was your plan, wasn’t it? I heard about people like you, people who play around with other people’s hearts, smash them carelessly and then extort them when they are at their weakest, getting  
paid to pick up the pieces-”

“I don’t even know what I stole!” Dan shouted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Phil! If you could stop acting like a damned brainwashed socialite for one second and see that, maybe you’d realize I’m telling the truth!” 

This outburst caused a gasp of surprise from Cecile, which in turn triggered the two officers to slam him down against the frosty metal floor of the ship's deck. There was an awful crack and Dan was knocked unconscious. A thin clear trickle of blood  
pushed it’s way out from under his temple. Phil took a step back, staring in horrified shock. The taller of the two officers tipped his hat. 

“I’m so sorry for this outburst, Mr. and Mrs. Lester. We’ll deal with him, and contact the captain to see about some sort of compensation. Free breakfasts, perhaps. A pass to the exercise room after hours… you name it.”

Cecile sighed and fluttered over. “Oh thank you so very much. We do not blame ze ship for ze actions of one ordinary thief… still, some compensation would be very nice, indeed.”  
The men tipped their caps to Cecile, scooped a dazed Dan off the floor and pushed him roughly away. Phil stood there, still in shock and remained there long after they hustled Dan out of sight and Cecile had gone back to their cabin.


	9. Part 1: The Ship, Chapter 9

“Philip? You’ve hardly touched your eggs benedict. Is everything alright?” Phil looked up. His mother and a tableful of people were looking at him, obviously concerned. 

“Oh… yeah I’m fine. I guess I’m not very hungry.” He stared guiltily down at the full plate of food. A complimentary breakfast, as promised, from the ship itself. 

“‘e is still upset about last night. I don’t know what to say, really. I told ‘im from ze beginning zat befriending a third class passenger was a terrible idea.” Cecile whispered loudly from across the table.

“You know, I thought there was something odd about him. I could see it in his eyes.” Mrs. Lester said sadly. 

“May I be excused?” Phil asked. His mother looked taken aback. 

“Why, I suppose…”

As he was leaving the dining room, he heard Cecile whisper, “You see? ‘e is in shock. I don't’ see why, zat Daniel was no good from ze start. Oh, poor soul, ‘e didn’t sleep a wink last night, up tossing and turning until ze sun rose...”

He didn’t go to the stern of the ship. Or the bow. Or anywhere on deck for that matter. He stepped outside and drank in the warm early April sun for a split second before taking a sharp turn through a narrow iron doorway, down several steep flights  
of stairs and winding hallways, to the cargo room. He was so distracted in his thoughts that he didn’t notice that he didn’t even have to think about finding his way. He just knew… perhaps because the place had such a deep emotional significance to  
him now. His thoughts were running at such a high speed and so many emotions bubbled to the surface and vanished that they all seemed to collapse into a void of emptiness. He felt nothing. He thought nothing. He looked but he didn't see, he heard  
but he didn't listen. Indifferent to everything, he pushed open the cargo room’s door and flicked on the industrial light switch. The light switches buzzed then filled the room with harsh yellow light. Back to where it all began. His cheek felt tender  
again, as if Dan had just slapped him. The heartbroken memories of the last few days and his budding friendship with Dan wrapped themselves around Phil, like moths to a light. Not quite knowing exactly what he was doing, he walked right over to  
the buggy and fell asleep in the front seat. 

He had no dreams. 

He woke up feeling like time had passed, although the room was exactly the same, windowless, the buzzing light still casting its acidic yellow glow to the corners of the room. He sat up and winced, rubbing a sore spot on his neck, which had cramped  
up during his sleep. He stretched. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but now his mind felt refreshed and slightly clearer, as if he’d managed to untangle his thoughts and feelings while he was asleep. He now knew what he had to do. But first, he couldn’t  
ignore the empty gnawing feeling in his stomach. Phil decided it would be best to stop by the dining room for a bit of breakfast before he was to go about sorting things out. 

When he emerged onto the promenade deck after several attempts in which he found himself hopelessly lost in the winding hallways of third deck, he was shocked to see how low the sun was in the sky. He’d been asleep much longer than he thought.  
The entire day, in fact. It was probably around the dinner hour, and seeing as he hadn’t seen anyone all day, he decided he might as well go back to the cabin and order something there while he tried to find Cecile. 

To his surprise, the door to his cabin stood ajar and there was a large number of people crowded into the parlor. He saw his mother and Martyn, as well as Thomas Andrews, the ship’s designer and the captain, along with the two officers who’d  
arrested Dan last night. The rest of the people seemed to be fellow first class passengers, people they’d dined with and played cribbage with and sunned themselves on deck with, whispering to one another behind gloved hands. 

“What’s going on?” Phil asked an elderly lady who was near the back of the crowd.

“Oh darling, I thought everybody knew. The entire ship’s been abuzz since last night.”

“Yes?”

“Well the Lesters, you know them right? The youngest is engaged to the opera singer-”

“I am aware. Her pearls were stolen last night.” He said, bitterly. She looked surprised.

This woman obviously didn’t recognize him, and rather than correct her he decided to press on for details. “Pearls! Good heavens I heard one of their very famous paintings was taken. Somebody else said it was a chest full of rubies and Erika Hunt,  
bless her soul, she plays bridge with Cecile almost every day and she claims that Cecile told her it was sheet music to the opera she’s debuting in New York-”

“They were pearls. They were definitely pearls.” He said. 

“Oh. Well whatever the case, they caught the person who did it.” She said. 

“I know that!”

“But get this…” She leaned in closer to Phil. “They caught the wrong person! Whoever it was, before, some nobody from third class, is innocent!”

“Let me through!” Phil shouted pushing through the crowd. “Let me through I live here!”

The crowd cleared a small circle around Cecile, an officer and a young looking maid, who Phil recognized as Maria, the girl who always made their tea in the morning and turned down their beds at night. The girl was sitting in a chair with her hands  
covering her face in shame. Cecile, clutching the pearls, was distraught. 

“Maria, why?” She cried dramatically. “Out of all ze maids ‘ere I trusted you ze most! Why would you do such a thing?”

“Alright, alright, clear out everybody, we need to figure things out, now get out.” Phil said, shooing the crowd away. Not used to being spoken to in such a manner, they stuck their noses in the air and left, murmuring things about them as they left.  
Now it was just Phil’s mum, Martyn, and the captain. The captain blushed and removed his hat. 

“Very sorry about this… again. Rest assured, we will reimburse you for your troubles.” He said. 

“Don’t bother.” Phil said. 

Cecile threw him an incredulous and mildly caustic look. “Excuse me?” 

“The pearls are back. No harm was really done. It’s fine” 

The Captain shrugged. “Well… my apologies to you both, then.” 

Cecile looked like she wanted to object. The Captain tipped his hat and left quickly. Phil turned to his mum and Martyn. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to Cecile… alone.” 

They, too left quickly, Martyn shutting the door behind them.

Perhaps Cecile knew she’d gone too far and she’d pushed Phil over the edge. When he turned back at her she seemed to cower a little bit. 

“What was that?” He said in a calm and controlled voice. 

“It appears Maria was ze one who stole ze necklace…” She laughed nervously. 

“You were so quick to accuse my friend, and then to convince me that he did it, you didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself!” His voice grew tenser with every word.

“It really looked like it ‘ad been him!” She said back in a matched tone. 

“You could have given him a chance! You’ve hated him from the start, and you jumped at the chance to make him look bad!”

“Well why wouldn’t I?” She shouted. “I see ze way you look at him! I’m an actress, it is my job to notice! And it is unnatural, just as unnatural as can be!” 

Phil’s stomach grew cold. He turned away. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. Daniel James Howell is my good friend, and nothing more.”

“Oh really? Ze late nights out on deck, ze inviting ‘im to dinner… I’ve noticed it from ze start! Don’t think I didn’t know what I walked in on last night, mister. Downright unnatural!”

“Shut up!” He shouted, covering his ears. “Shut up shut up shut up!”

“You’d better forget ‘im immediately, Philip. When we get to shore you are never going to see ‘im again and if you do, you better watch your back because zis… whatever zat is happening between ze two of you is a ticking time bomb just waiting to  
blow up in all of our faces.”

“Get out.”

“Think of your mother! You’d at least have ze decency to spare ‘er ze shame, wouldn’t you?”

“Get OUT.” 

“And Martyn… what would ‘e say? Oh, and your father. So disappointed. And what about me, Philip, what about me?”

“GET OUT!” He shouted. Phil almost never raised his voice and Cecile winced. He stepped in very close to her, until there was only a centimeter of space between them. Cecile looked up indignantly.

“I want you to leave this cabin,” He said softly. “And I don’t want you to come back, do you understand?” 

She nodded. The storm had passed. He turned around and walked away slowly, trying to regain composure. Something flew through the air and crashed into the wall a few inches from Phil’s head, sending cold tea and shattered porcelain everywhere.  
He spun around to see Cecile holding a tray with a delicate china tea set, the one they used during afternoon tea hour. One of the tiny teacups was missing. She looked at him coldly. 

“Ze engagement is off.” She said, dropping the rest of the tea set on the floor where it shattered. 

“Unnatural.” She muttered as she walked down the hall. “Completely unnatural.”

Phil stood there for a moment before stepping over the shattered tea set and bounding off down the hall in the opposite direction. He needed to find Dan. 

 

Dan had been escorted down to the master at arm’s office where the master at arms fastened a pair of handcuffs to him and forced him into a hard metal chair. He didn’t dare ask any questions. The master at arm’s took his handcuffs off only once to  
let him use the bathroom. Then he was pushed back into the uncomfortable chair. He lost track of how long he’d been sitting there. After a while he invited another officer in, and they split several bottles of brandy over a game of cards. After a while  
they were too drunk to remember each other’s names and staggered off, completely forgetting Dan. An hour passed. Then two. 

He was completely certain he’d been forgotten down there when Phil burst in, red cheeked and panting as if he’d run the length of the ship. 

“You… you didn’t...didn’t do it…” He panted, gasping for breath. Dan’s jaw dropped. He was visibly shocked that Phil had come for him, but he quickly regained composure and looked away, pretending to be uninterested. 

“Took you long enough to realize.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Phil physically deflate out of disappointment. Trying to mimic Dan's uninterested vibe, he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Yeah well…” 

Dan looked back at him. “Why’d you do it, Phil? After all that time we spent together… after everything I told you, I thought we had something special. Why wouldn’t you believe me?” He didn’t look or sound angry or upset. Just hurt. 

“I’m sorry, Daniel, I just got so caught up in everything… and it really did seem like you did it.”

“I still don’t even know what I did.”

Phil looked at him. 

“You really are innocent aren’t you?” He sighed. “God I feel terrible. Well, last night- after Cecile walked in on us and you left, she found out that her pearl necklace had been stolen.”

“And you thought I used you as a means to get into your cabin and take the necklace because I’m poor and I could pawn it off once I got to America.”

“You’re pretty clever for somebody who’s never been to school.”

“You’re pretty daft for an heir.”

“I told you, I’m not an heir! I just have a large inheritance.”

Dan laughed humorlessly. “Christ, Phil it was like I didn’t even know you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I had always set you apart from other first class people like Cecile, but there was this moment when for a second you were just like them.” He said, his voice growing more tense.

“Listen, I don’t know what to say-”

“You watched as they slammed me on the ground!” He shouted. “I pleaded for you and you did nothing! I felt low, I felt dirty and low and for the first time in my life I felt like I was less of a person than someone else. Do you know how that feels? Of  
course you don’t. You don’t understand anything! Rich people! Sometimes I’m convinced you don’t feel anything, and if you do, it’s only about yourself. Why did I have to fall for you? A stupid, stupid rich boy who gets everything he wants and is too  
daft to see anything in front of him!”

“I’m sorry, Dan!” Phil shouted back. He was close to tears. “These past few days haven’t exactly been easy for me. I guess I thought you were too good to be true.” 

“Listen Phil,” Dan said. “In your stupid, stupid elitist world, nobody can trust anybody. You all play mind games with each other and everything you say has a double meaning. I get that. But I can promise you that you can always trust me. I’ll never lie 

to you, Phil Lester.”

Nobody had ever said anything like that to Phil before. He stood there, too stunned to speak. A beautiful future with Dan, a future full of open honesty and communication was unfolded before his eyes. It was a future that began with Dan getting out  
of that chair. “Where is the Master at Arms anyway?” 

Dan shrugged. “How should I know? Left a little while ago with a buddy. I don't think he'll be returning.”

Phil hesitated, biting his lip and furrowing his brow in thought. “Well in that case…” 

Hurriedly he went over to the desk and opened the drawer, sifting around to find the key to the handcuffs. “Did he put them in here, Dan?” 

“He kept them on his belt loop. I felt like a damn prisoner when he did that.”

Phil cursed under his breath. “He must have a spare?”

Dan looked back helplessly. Phil began to grow desperate. “I know he would have a spare. I just know it. But where would he keep it?” 

“Check the other drawers? He pulled a bottle out of the middle left one I think.”

Phil opened the drawer, dug around for a bit and gasped. “I don’t believe it!”

“You found it?”

He smiled and held up a smaller ring of keys. “One of these must be it. I’m not sure which one so we’ll have to try them all though.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Dan scoffed. 

It was the third key. Dan could feel Phil’s hands shaking more and more after the first two keys were unsuccessful. When the third key clicked the handcuffs open Dan’s heart skipped a beat. He jumped out of the chair and slapped Phil so hard that he  
staggered back against the master at arms desk, nearly hitting his head. 

“Why are you constantly slapping me?! What the hell was that for?!”

“That was for having me locked away.” Dan said. Then he walked over, grabbed a fistful of Phil’s shirt collar in his hand and bent him over the desk, kissing him deeply. 

“That’s for coming back.” He said. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.” Phil said. 

“Oy, what are you doin ‘ere?” A gruff voice broke the two apart. The Master at Arms stood in the doorway, swaying slightly, the stench of alcohol rolling off of him. “Get back there, you’re under arrest!”

“Run, Dan!” Phil said, and they both broke into a sprint, pushing past the Master at Arms.

They ran down the hallway, laughing and whooping at their good luck. Phil didn’t think the Master at Arms was still following them but neither of them wanted to look back and find out. They both stopped to catch their breath at the top of the grand  
staircase. 

“I haven’t run like that since I was young!” Phil laughed. 

“You still are young, Phil!” Dan replied, clearly winded from their jog. 

“Would you like to sit down?”

They both sat. Phil removed his glasses and wiped the sweat off his brow. 

“I remember this place.” Dan said after a moment of silence.

“We were just here a couple nights ago.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “I remember it because it’s the place I think I started actually falling for you.”

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. I saw you standing at the bottom of the stairs, and you looked so handsome, but also so nervous, and I knew right then that I wasn’t going to be able to get through dinner without messing up somehow and embarrassing myself.”

“You were nervous?” Phil asked. He was surprised. Dan had seemed as cool and composed as the circumstances of his being there would allow. 

Dan laughed. “Oh I was petrified! Especially when I was meeting people. Cecile is the most terrifying woman on this boat, you know that right?”

“Believe me I know.” Phil hesitated, and continued. “She knows about us.”

“Huh.” Dan leaned back a bit. He didn’t seem surprised or worried by this, just mildly curious. “What did she say?”

“She said that as an actress she could see how we looked at each other, and how she thought it was downright unnatural.”

“I mean she’s not wrong.” Dan said. 

They sat together in silence for a long time. 

“Where do we go from here?” Dan asked finally, breaking the silence. 

“You’re asking me?”

“Right, sorry.” Dan thought for a second. “I have an idea of something we could do.”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What is it?”

“Can’t tell you. You’ll have to wait and see.” Dan said. 

Will it be fun?” Phil asked. 

“Oh, trust me, Philip Lester. When you’re with me, it’s always fun.”


	10. Part 1: The Ship, Chapter 10

They crashed through the cabin door, fumbling to get inside before they kissed desperately, Phil almost forgetting to shut the door behind him.

Their kisses grew more heated as they made their way to the bedroom where they fell onto the bed. Still kissing him, Phil began to worm his way out of his shirt and coat. Dan broke away from him and watched. Bare skin sliding out from layers of 

coats and undershirts all made from the finest silks and linens. A body, chiseled in modesty and so humbly unaware of his own statuesque likeness to that of Achilles and Apollo. Collarbones and a neck just begging to be devoured with a jawline that   
could slice a finger in two. Strong thighs and calfs, subtle yet toned muscles snaking their way up his arms. How they rippled and danced when he moved. How every part of his body was so smoothly connected to one another, and muscles moving   
under skin gave away the true interconnected perfection of the human body. 

Him. His eyes from behind his glasses. His dark hair pushed from its tidiness, swept across his magnificent marble forehead. So wonderfully easy to grasp. How his eyes reflected the dancing lights, and how his brow furrowed when he asked, “Have   
you done this before?”

“Once. Once in France with a blonde painter whose name I can’t even remember right now because god you look amazing.”

Phil stood before him, his eyes like ice and his lips like cherries. Lips that curved upwards into a nervous smile but rest assured, I will show you everything. 

His was the perfect human body. Had a Greek or Roman sculptor seen him they would have pronounced, “He is a God,” and modeled every one of their statues after his marblesque perfection. And now that perfect body was against him, and he could   
feel everything about it, the lines between where his ended and his body began blurring. And when that body pressed him to the silky duvet, he felt the sharp contrast of the cold silk on one side of him, and the heat from his body on the other side. 

His cherry lips tasted sweet and warm. Like him. Like everything he was. His cologne, his smile, everything good about him. 

Right now, Phil’s entire universe was being destroyed and recreated again inside that room. So many different emotions. He thought he would be afraid. He thought he would be nervous, but with Dan nothing could be shameful or embarrassing. Every   
time their lips touched, sparks flew and colored the air red. Dan was gentle and Phil, in return, tried to match that. He didn’t realize that the human body was capable of such pleasure, or that making love could entail so much love and gentleness. 

Dan was much less graceful about undressing. Just to tease him, he purposefully took as long as possible to undo the first button of his shirt, staring Phil directly in the eye, a sadistic smile playing at his lips. Phil got up and pushed him against a wall,   
unbuttoning the shirt and throwing it to the side. With his mouth he explored Dan’s neck and collarbones, nipping the skin softly then smoothing it over with a kiss. Dan cried out. 

“Oh god, that’s gonna leave a mark.” He pushed Phil off of him onto the bed, gently guiding his legs apart and taking him in his mouth. Phil moaned, letting his head fall back, his hands gripping Dan’s shoulders lightly. Dan smiled at the reactions. 

“Wait, Dan.” He gasped as he finished. “I… I have some stuff in the drawer if we want to take things any further.” 

“Do you want to?”

“I think I do.”

Dan was gentle with him, softly guiding him through what to do. Everything was red. The color in Dan’s cheeks, the puffs of air he breathed out whenever Dan touched him. The air seemed to grow red, redder with every touch and kiss, redder with   
every word Dan whispered in his ear. Every moan that escaped Dan’s lips, the way his hair curled around his ears and at the nape of his neck, the small dimple on the side of his mouth, everything about him solicited unparalleled love, pleasure and   
affection from Phil. When Dan rolled over Phil drank in the sight of his bare back, flawless and taut with muscle. Making love with Dan was unlike anything else Phil had ever experienced. 

Phil was good, there was no doubt about it. In fact, the night he spent with Phil was the most incredible one of his life. 

After they were finished and had cleaned up they just stayed there, lying in bed holding each other, foreheads touching. Phil fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted from everything that had happened in that day but Dan lay awake, savoring every   
moment of holding Phil, watching his form rise and fall with every breath and feeling the small puffs of warm air. When he was asleep he looked less worried, his usually neat hair falling in his face, all the troubles of the day melted off his face, and his   
mouth forming a sweet straight line. Suddenly he felt jealous of Cecile, who got to fall asleep and wake up to this every day, yet didn’t appreciate it. 

“I love you, Phil Lester.” He whispered. 

“I love you too.” Phil replied sleepily. Dan almost jumped. He didn’t know that Phil was awake. Snuggling deeper into Phil and wrapping his arms tighter around him, Dan fell asleep, perfectly and completely content for the first time in ages. 

Phil was awoken much later by a horrible grinding, tearing sound followed by a rough thud that seemed to come from deep within the ship. He shook Dan softly.

“Dan, did you feel that?” He whispered. 

“Mmhm. Probably just the boiler. Now get off, I’m trying to sleep.”

“No no, that didn’t sound good.” He reached over and turned on a light next to the bed. Dan groaned and burrowed deeper under the covers.

“Phil, it was probably just the engine or something. It’s a ship. Ships make strange noises sometimes.”

“No, I don’t feel like that was an engine. That definitely didn’t feel right.”

“Phil, listen. You’re just paranoid because we’re in the same bed.” 

“No, really. Something’s wrong.” Phil said insistently. 

Dan groaned again. “What time is it?”

“11:40.”

“I’m so tired, can we please just go back to bed?” A hand shot out from under the mound of duvet, groping blindly for Phil’s. When he caught it, he tugged on his hand a few times, trying to pull Phil down into the covers. 

“I think we should go check it out, Dan.” He said one last time. 

“Alright, you go. I’m going to stay here and sleep like a normal person.”

An instinctive feeling told Phil that Dan should go with him. “Dan, I really think you should come with me.” 

“You’re crazy,” He moaned but got up reluctantly, rubbing his eyes and pushing his tousled hair out of his face. They both pulled on their now wrinkled clothes, which had hastily been cast aside, and left the room. 

There were a couple more tired looking first class passengers standing dazed in the corridor, but the breezed past them out onto the deck. Outside, there were only a few second and third class passengers, shivering in the cold April night air. The   
chunks of ice and snow which were strewn across the promenade were almost glowing under the moonlight. Phil saw two women, one who was nursing an infant, sat at a bench nearby, talking in excited whispers. 

“Excuse me,” Dan said politely, striding over to them. “Do either of you know what’s going on?”

“Aye, yes.” Said the one who wasn’t nursing a child. “I was in my cabin down on D level when it happened. Woke me and my family up it did.”

“I see, and what exactly was that?”

“Well I’m not exactly sure, you see. All I know is that we were woken by this horrible scraping, grinding noise. Very loud. It sounded like it was coming from inside the ship? Or maybe from the outside, but it was very hard to tell.”

“I see.” 

Phil craned his next. Far in the distance, and fading as they spoke was an ominous shape, looming on the water. An iceberg. His mind raced, putting two and two together, connecting the dots until…

“Oh god.” He whispered, the color draining from his face. Dan, who was still engaged in pleasant conversation with the two women noticed Phil and stopped smiling. 

“Phil, are you alright?”

“We need to go see the captain, right now.” He grabbed Dan’s hand and started pulling him. 

“Well, it was lovely to meet you two!” Dan smiled as he was being dragged away. When they were out of earshot he turned on Phil. “What’s wrong? Why were you acting so strange?” He asked angrily. 

“The ship’s been hit.” Phil said, his voice shaky. 

“What? Hit? Are you sure?”

“I think it was an iceberg. I’m not totally sure though. We need to talk to the captain.” 

Even before they entered the office quarters, Phil knew something was wrong. The door was slightly ajar, the light and the indistinguishable murmur of worried voices spilling out into the darkened hallway. Phil pushed the door open and they stepped   
inside. 

The captain, Thomas Andrews, Martyn Lester, and two crewmen in uniforms were standing around a table with the ship's blueprints spread out in front of them. Their faces changed upon seeing the two to the hospitable cordialness that the   
crewmembers always had around the passengers, but Phil had seen the look on their faces the split second before they had noticed Dan and his presence. A look of worry and fear, of absolute despair. 

“Mr. Lester and his friend. How lovely it is to see you. Can we get you anything?” The captain said, smiling and holding out his arms.

“We hit something, didn't we?” Phil asked. The smile melted off the captain’s face. 

“Well, it would seem that at 23:40 we hit a large iceberg. Efforts were made to avoid collision, but the side of the boat was damaged quite badly... don't you worry, Mr. Lester. All efforts are being made to ensure that the quality of your trip is not   
tarnished in the least. We assure you we will-”

“How badly?” 

The room went silent. Softly, Martyn said, “Tell him.” 

Thomas Andrews cleared his throat and beckoned Dan and Phil to the blueprints on the table. “These compartments at the bow of the ship are watertight compartments. The ship can still stay afloat if two or maybe even four compartments are   
flooded. We think when the iceberg hit, damage was done here.” He dragged his finger across the five watertight compartments. “She can stay afloat if four are punctured,” he repeated solemnly. “But not five.” 

“So what you're saying is..”

“... The ship is going to sink.” Dan said softly, finishing his sentence. The words hung uncomfortably in the room and the captain got even more pale.

“How much time do we have?” Phil asked. 

“An hour, maybe two.” The captain said. 

Phil suddenly remembered something, a conversation he'd had with Andrews a couple days earlier. 

“How many people are on board right now, sir?” 

“Around 2,230, I believe.” He said after a moment of thinking.

“And you told me that there are enough lifeboats for 1,700 people.”

“Just about.” He said, hesitantly. 

“That means that over 1,000 people are going to die tonight.” Phil whispered. At once he felt like the wind was getting knocked out of him, the weight of what was about to happen hitting him. Dan didn't seem to be doing too well either. His face went   
from ashen color to a sickly white. The captain sat down, his eyes wide, unspeaking. Andrews crossed over to Phil and Dan and handed them two life jackets which he'd gotten out of a compartment under a seat, and pointed them toward the door.

“Listen to me boys,” he said gravely. “You should wake your mother, Philip. We're having stewards on all decks wake the passengers and get them out, but it won't hurt to be outside before everybody else. Find a lifeboat and get on it because my   
guess is it's going to be hectic. They're going to try to get women and children on first, but if your push hard enough, they'll also accept first class males which means you might want to get him a better coat.” He nodded at Dan. “Put on the life jackets   
and keep them on and no matter what you do, do not go in the water.” 

“Once when I was younger, I fell into the pond out behind my home in the middle of January.” Dan whispered, his gaze far off. “With cold like that, you don't know what to do. You can't think, you can't breathe, and it feels like a million tiny knives   
stabbing you repeatedly. A thousand people are going to feel that tonight…” 

“You'd better leave. Go, tell everybody you see. Go right now!” He urged, pushing Dan, Phil and Martyn out of the room. “And it's been an honor to be with you, sirs.” He added sincerely before slamming the door shut. The three stood in silence for a   
second.

“Oh...my god.” Dan said. 

“What he said about women and children first, then first class citizens… Where does that put...” Phil trailed off, looking at Dan.

“Oh don't worry about me, I'll be fine.” Dan smiled, but Phil could see in his eyes that he was frightened. 

“Oh no you don't, you heard Mr. Andrews. Go to your cabin and get him a good coat, and while you're at it get Cecile too. I'll wake up mum. God, she'll hate that.” Martyn said as they began to walk.

“Right, about that…” 

“Right about what, Philip?”

“Cecile and I, well, we had a bit of a falling out. I don't think we're getting married anymore.” 

Martyn looked surprised. Then angry. “Philip Lester! What is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that-” Phil said, his heart sinking. 

“Go apologize to her! I know you’re nervous but you can’t just call off that engagement like it’s nothing! Like it doesn’t mean anything to this family! How could you be so selfish?”

“Oy!” Dan interrupted. “He has his reasons. The person who knows best for Phil is Phil.”

Martyn frowned. “Debatable, but we’ll discuss that later.” 

“Just don't tell mum yet? I need to find a way to tell her when all of this is over...” 

“Wouldn't dream of it.” He said as they approached the first class hallway. He pulled Phil into a quick embrace. “I'll see you later, okay Philip?”

“Alright Martyn. Goodbye.” 

Maybe it was just Phil’s imagination, but the hallway seemed to slant at a downwards angle as they were walking back to his cabin. It must have been his imagination, the boat couldn’t be sinking that quickly, could it? He gripped Dan’s arm and Dan   
rubbed his hand. 

“They’ve got a plan, Phil. We’re going to get out of this. They’ve always got a plan.” He said, but it seemed more like he was reassuring himself instead. Phil nodded. He fumbled for the key to his cabin and unlocked the door with shaking hands. The   
cabin was warm and dark, the radiator hissing quietly in the corner. There were still a few things out of place from Cecile’s outburst earlier in the evening but overall, the place seemed neat and cozy. Phil wanted nothing more to snuggle up on the   
couch with Dan and pray that this was all a bad dream, but he noticed something in the corner. A cigarette, from Dan’s spilled pack lay discarded in a corner, between the desk and the bookshelf. Maybe it was something about that cigarette, such an   
ordinary object that made him realize something with sickening certainty. The shocking reality of the situation hit him so hard he needed to sit down.

“In less than an hour,” He said, his voice hoarse. “This will all be at the bottom of the sea.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that.” Dan said softly, cupping Phil’s face in his hands. Phil took his hands gently, and for a moment he almost believed Dan. But it was his eyes that gave him away, worry swimming in the dark irises that made Phil realize they   
needed to keep moving.

“Here, take my coat.” He tossed Dan one of his many coats, the warmest out of all of them.

“I can’t Phil, really.” 

Phil glanced at the thin patched olive coat Dan always wore. Holes were forming at the seams and it was missing a button. “Just put on the coat, Dan.”

Dan shed the olive colored jacket and put on the dinner coat, taken aback for a second by the thick warm material. Phil turned around to search for a warmer layer for himself. “Oh, Phil…” He heard Dan say from behind him. 

He spun back around. Dan was examining the two shining gold cufflinks he’d forgotten were attached to the coat still. “Oh yeah, I forgot about those. Gift from my grandpa.”

“Phil, I really can’t.”

“I insist you wear it. It’s cold out there and you’ll catch your death without proper protection.”

Dan snickered. “You sound like my mum.”

“You can return it to me when this is all over. Remember, we are going to get through this. Together.”

“Right,” Dan said as he pulled Phil into a kiss. When they broke apart, he whispered just one word to Phil. “Together.”

The ship gave a deep lurching groan and the two took hands, filled with determination and fear, and left the cabin.


	11. Part 1: The Ship, Chapter 11

Outside there was a small, growing crowd forming on deck at the middle of the ship. As Dan looked around into the beginning stages of organized chaos, his head swum with thoughts. 

What if he had never met Phil? What if that first night instead of offering him a cigarette he’d simply scooted away from the strange man who all but threw himself overboard? What if these past couple days instead of running around with Phil’s secret   
all over his lips he had been in third class, befriending fellow emigrants, attending parties and maybe even hooking up with a girl or two? What if he hadn’t known the ship was sinking, only to be awoken by a steward banging on his door and telling   
him to get up, or only when he noticed the cold sea water pooling under his cabin door? He certainly couldn't- no, wouldn't have survived had he not met Phil. Strange, how the world works. 

The crowd was getting larger. Some people had begun boarding the lifeboats, mostly women and children from first class. To make things worse, the great bow of the ship was now noticeably slanting towards the water, and the stern had just begun   
to show her dark underbelly, a stain of seawater and algae marked where she usually sat in the water. Far off, Dan could hear a band playing. To his right, somewhere in the crowd, he heard a very familiar voice. 

“Excuse me, what do you mean I cannot get on zis lifeboat? Do you know who I am?” 

Phil, who heard it too, took his hand and led him to his ex fiancé, who was arguing with a crew member, who was boarding passengers into another lifeboat. 

“Cecile,” Phil said, grabbing her shoulder. She jumped. 

“Oh, Philip it's you. And… Daniel James. ‘Ow nice.” She wrinkled her nose and sneered. “If you don't mind I am trying to board zis lifeboat.” 

“Hold on.” Phil said. He walked up to the crew member, and tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Excuse me, sir, my name is Philip Michael Lester and my brother is close friends with the captain. This is my wife, Cecile, and though you probably can't tell, she is pregnant with our child. Like I said, our family is close with the captain and if you help   
us out, I'll be sure to put in a good word for you when this is all over with. What was your name, again?” 

“Julian, sir.” 

“Ah, Julian.” He turned to Cecile. “That would be a good name for the baby, don't you think?” 

Confused, she nodded. 

He turned back to Julian. “Help out my family, sir. They're all I've got.” 

The lie must have been convincing, because the crew member looked from Dan, to Phil, then to Cecile, who instinctively placed a protective hand over her belly. 

“Alright.” He said, lifting her by the waist into the lifeboat. 

“Thank you, Philip.” Cecile said softly. It was the first time he'd ever heard her say that. They watched as the lifeboat slowly filled up with more people. When it was finally full, though it didn’t look full to Phil, it was lowered down the side of the great   
ship. When the boat touched the water, Dan turned to Phil. 

“Why'd you do that?” Dan asked. 

“It was the right thing to do.” Phil said, watching the boat bob and float in the water. 

They stayed on deck, amongst the crowd, watching people board the lifeboats. Somehow, the band was still playing. 

“Over there.” Phil said, pointing across deck to a lifeboat that appeared to be half full. They walked over, pushing through the growing crowd as they went. The crew member in charge of loading that lifeboat, however, shook his head when they   
approached. 

“I’m afraid I can’t let you boys on,” He said. “The rule is women and children first, then fathers and husbands if they’re first class.” 

“Well when you start letting first class men on, I want us to be the very first…” Phil said, reaching into his pocket to get some bills. 

Dan took Phil’s arms. “Come on, Phil. No need to bribe. If we can’t board this lifeboat, let’s help out and find people who can.” 

It seemed like the right thing to do in that situation. Phil nodded. 

The deck was now mostly second class women, children and men. Dan looked into all of their faces, and saw the deep lines of worry etched into their expressions. Something was troubling him though, something even more unsettling than the   
sickening angle of the bow to the stern. From the point which they’d arrived on deck to now, he’d seen all first and second class people. But even now, as the situation had grown even more and a state of emergency was officially declared, he saw not   
one third class passenger. Where could they all be? 

His question was unwillingly answered when two men, the first poor looking people he’d seen all night, burst through one of the doors. The bottom of his torn and patched pants were wet.

“Attention everybody!” One shouted. “I just come from G-Deck. They’re lockin’ em down there, like rats or somethin. I saw it with my own eyes.Water was already ankle deep when I managed to get out.” Unfortunately, nobody heard or cared except   
for Dan. 

“Excuse me,” He said. “What’s that about them locking people down there?”

The two men glared at Dan, in a way that he wasn’t used to. Then he remembered that wearing Phil’s fancy coat. They must have thought he was from first class. 

“I doubt you’d care or understand, sir.” One of them said, sneering a little at ‘“sir.” “But if you must know, they’ve gone barring the doorways with some grates and cages so the good people of the third class don’t get out an’ take the lifeboats before   
the wealthier class can.” 

“Please.” The other one said in a tone that was pathetically close to pleading. “We implore you to use whatever power you have to get those people out. They’re our friends, our family down there. For the love of all things good, help us!”

“Oh, it’s not like that. I’m not actually… well see I’m not exactly… I don’t think I can help…” Dan stammered, turning red.

“Then there’s a special place in hell reserved for ye.” The man said, and spat at Dan’s feet. 

“Don’t think about it, Dan.” Phil whispered as they walked away. Dan tried not to, he really did. But in the end, the thought thought of leaving those people, many of whom were very much like him, was too much. Even if they survived, he knew he   
wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he let those people die. 

“I’ll be right back!” He shouted to Phil as he ran away. 

Ignoring Phil’s cries for him to come back, he went back inside the ship. Not much had changed on the first levels, except the marvelous oil paintings that hung in the hallways were now leaning far to one side on their hooks. He could hear the   
desperate pleas of the third class even before he got to the barred doorways which they pressed themselves against in one terrified, huddled mass. The crew member who was guarding them narrowed his eyes at Dan as he ran up. 

“You need to leave right now.” Dan said, almost completely out of breath. The people on the other side of the bars began directing their pleas for help to him. 

“What? Sir, I was told to stay here…” 

“You don’t understand!” Dan cried, taking his shoulders. “They’ve spotted a rescue ship! We’re all going to be safe! But they want all crewmembers on deck to help get people over safely.” 

The lie came out so smooth, and was so convincing, that the crew member did nothing more than nod and run off, up and out. Dan turned back to the third class passengers, whose cries had turned rejoicing. 

“There is no rescue ship coming, but I am going to help you out.” He said. 

The people behind the bars shouted, spat, and reached out at him. 

“Why would you do that!?” One man shouted. “You stupid aristocrat, you just sent away the one person with the keys!”

“We’re going to die!” 

“Oh god!”  
“I am going to get you out!” Dan shouted over them. Though, how he was to do that, he wasn’t sure. 

One woman near the bottom of the stairs screamed.The water at the bottom of the stairs had now reached the passengers on the fourth step, and was sloshing at their skirts and bare feet. 

A lightbulb came on in Dan’s brain. He knew exactly what to do. 

“I need to find a supply closet. Does anybody know where the nearest supply closet is?” In each section of the Titanic was a supply closet. A small, narrow, nondescript door which behind it was a small, seldom illuminated room with a mop, spare   
lightbulbs, any anything else needed to make quick fixes in the luxurious parts of the ship. Hopefully, there would be a toolbox. 

“I saw one near the grand staircase and first class dining room!” One woman shouted back. Almost halfway across the ship. 

The trip to the hallway just before the grand staircase was more like a hike. The angle from bow to stern was steeper than ever, and Dan now had to dodge around objects that had fallen out of place. When he reached the supply closet his heart   
sank. Of course it was locked. 

He slid down the wall across from the closet and sat down in defeat. To his left, out the doors at the end of the hallway, he could make out the top of the grand staircase. Had it only been two days ago that he descended those very stairs to meet   
the love of his life? 

A thought crossed his mind. He could just die there, across from that supply closet, with hundreds of desperate people below him and thoughts of Phil to keep him calm. He could just die there, but it was Phil that made him get up. It was the   
thought of Phil that made him kick the supply closet door in in two swift kicks. The door crumpled and splintered as if it were a piece of driftwood. Dan reached up and in through the splintery hole he’d created, and turned the knob. 

_I suppose I should thank Thomas Andrews for designing this forsaken boat with such paper thin goddamned closet doors._ He thought as he reached into a red toolbox, which had never been touched, for a screwdriver. He   
grabbed three. 

As he drew nearer to the spot where the third class passengers were being held, he was stunned by the silence he was met with. Was he too late? Had they all drowned? Had they found another way to escape? As he rounded the corner, he   
stopped short. 

They were all sitting in a circle on the stairs, holding hands, with their heads bent and their eyes closed. In soft voices they sang a slow, sad hymn Dan remembered from his childhood. 

_I have some friends before me gone For a few days,_  
For I have a home up yonder, for a few days,  
My suffering time will soon be over,  
For a few days, for a few days,  
Thus I shall sigh and weep no more,  
For a few days, for I am going home.   
Fight on ye conquering souls, fight on. 

Dan waited until they were finished before sliding the screwdrivers under the door. 

“Here.” He said. “I lived with an ex-con in London for a while. Unscrew the grate from the wall, at the corners here. And be quick. 

As he was leaving, the last few words of the poem echoed through his mind. 

_Farewell vain world, I’m going home._

 

Phil’s anxiety grew every minute Dan was gone. He was about to give up and run inside after him, when Dan ran out. He practically tumbled, out of breath, into Phil’s arms. 

“Oh god, Dan!” Phil said. “Where the hell were you?”

Instead of answering, Dan pointed to the doors. A second later, a huge crowd of third class passengers ran outside and swamped the deck. One of them stopped and shook Dan’s hand, thanking him prodigiously. 

“I couldn’t let them die down there.” He said to Phil. 

He looked around. There were only a couple of lifeboats left on deck, which had started descending at the sight of all the third class passengers swarming the deck. One lifeboat only had seven passengers in it when it touched the water. 

Dan tried to suppress his panic and stood up a little straighter. Icy water began splashing over the rails of the bow. 

“We should put on our life jackets now.” Phil said, his voice shaking. Dan nodded. Phil put on his life vest and fastened it. Dan was about to do the same when a man pushed his way through the crowd, grabbed Dan's life jacket out of his hand and,   
while still running, put it on.

“Hey!” He shouted. The man glanced back at them. It was one of the two men he'd talked to earlier. He fastened the life jacket to himself and jumped off the side of the ship. They watched in horror as he plummeted into the icy sea. The ship gave   
another sickening lurch and the water traveled farther up the ship. Flares shot into the sky, somewhere near the bow, illuminating only night sky in red and casting its glow off the dark water. The ship lurched again and suddenly Dan knew what they   
had to do. The sounds from the band, the screams from those still on the boat and the distant splashes of those that had gone overboard mixed together and echoed across the frosty air.

“Get to the stern,” he said, taking Phil by the hand. “And don't get separated from me, do you understand?” 

“Why?” 

As if answering Phil’s question, the ship began to break apart, wires and lines snapping, the groan of metal and splintering sound of wood mixed with a thousand screams. The stern of the ship rose out of the water even more. 

“Let's go, follow me and do exactly as I do.” Dan said again, breaking into a run. It was hard pushing through all those people who seemed to have the same idea. The angle was so steep now that it hurt his shins to push his way to the back of the   
boat, and a thin film of ice had started to form from the sea spray. When they got to the stern they had to cling to the rail with all their might to keep from sliding down. Dan watched in horror as the black waves that had already consumed most of   
the ship, crawled slowly to where they stood, still holding hands. People slipped and tumbled down the ship into the sea, some jumped off the side. Out of the corner of his eye, Dan could see people in the water desperately swimming towards life   
boats, and being smacked away by oars. The ship groaned one more time, a deep angry noise that ensured damage had been done. 

“Dan, you're going to think I'm crazy. But I want you to jump.” Phil shouted over the noise.

“What?” 

“Just trust me!” He shouted again. “Jump and swim as far away from the ship as possible.” 

Dan looked at Phil. He was cold, his hair damp and windswept from the salty, icy spray that the wind had blown up the ship. 

“I trust you.” He said and they both threw themselves over the end of the bow. 

The fall was terrifying, cold air rushing past his ears and making his eyes sting. When he hit the water it was with so much force that the wind was knocked out of him. And then the cold. Like a thousand knives stabbing him all at once, freezing his   
limbs and head so he couldn't move or think, just sink slowly, paralyzed in the subarctic water. A thought pushed its way through the coldness of his brain. 

_“This is it,”_ he thought. _“This is how I am going to die.”_

He sunk a little bit deeper, consumed by cold and nothingness when he felt a strong pair of arms grab him around the waist. Something in him reignited and he began kicking furiously, kicking away the cold and the despair. He broke the surface just   
when he thought he was going to run out of air, and Phil finally let go of him. 

“Thought I lost you there for just a second, mate.” He said through chattering teeth. Dan tried to respond but the cold had still taken his breath away. “Let's go. We gotta swim away as fast as we can. Hold on to me, I've got a life vest and it should   
keep us both afloat.” 

Dan gratefully wrapped one arm across Phil, the bone chilling cold of the water sending deep shivers through his soaked body. Together they paddled away from the ship to a door, sitting there amongst the debris floating in the water. “This'll keep us   
both afloat. Don't worry Dan, we'll get out of this.” 

They sat, huddled together and shivering, watching the ship's lights go out one by one. Suddenly it was all dark and Dan could only see the silhouette of Phil. The moon sat, lighting the water with its eerie pale light, seeming to grin in a macabre sort   
of way over the scene. There were even more screams, and closer to them Dan heard a pitifully terrified sort of whimpering. 

“Phil, look.” He said, pointing to two people near them. A mother, he couldn't tell from which class, kicking water as a small child clung to her. The child was whimpering and the mother was too shocked by the cold to try to console her. Even though   
she had a life vest on, she was struggling to keep both her and her child’s head above water. With much difficulty, Phil began to remove his own life vest. “What are you doing?” Dan hissed incredulously. 

“Excuse me,” Phil called out to the mother and child, using his hand to paddle their door closer to them. “Please, take this.” He tossed the life jacket into the water and the child caught it, her mother struggling to fasten it to her in the water. Phil   
looked at them for a second. “Actually…” He jumped into the water. Dan could tell the cold had shocked him, but he pushed the two closer to the door. “Get out of the water. It's safer and you have a better chance of someone coming to rescue you.” 

Gratefully, they climbed aboard, shocked and shivering. 

“Phil what are you doing?” Dan asked again. Phil had swum over to Dan and was holding onto his hands so he didn't drown. 

“Listen Dan. I'm so tired of not helping. My whole life I've gone not helping anybody, always being the one getting help. If I die tonight, I want to die knowing I saved someone else.” 

“In that case…” Dan lowered himself into the icy water, pushing the door away from him. He gasped at how cold it was and how rapidly he was losing feeling in his legs and feet. 

“You idiot!” Phil gasped.

“L-listen. You're the best thing t-that's come along for me in a while and I l-love you. If you're going down I'm going to be right next to you.” Dan said through chattering teeth.

“Oh Dan…” Phil said. He could barely think, much less form coherent words. 

“Phil?” 

“Y-yeah, Dan?”

“That whole romantic speech you made to Cecile before you asked her to marry you, that w-wasn’t directed at her, was it?”

“I s-suppose it wasn’t” Phil said. 

“S-say it again. For me. R-right now when we’re on the b-b-brink of eternity and we don’t know what’s going to happen.” Dan said. 

Phil racked his brain for the words he’d used. It was hard to think about anything other than the cold. He sighed. 

“Daniel James Howell… S-since I met you, my life has changed. You have introduced to me a new world, one I never even knew existed. You’ve taught me about love, laughter and most importantly, letting go. You’ve g-given me hope, you’ve listened   
to me, and you’ve supported me. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed spending t-t-time with you and, if you’ll have me, I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you. I know we’re nearing the end of this grand adventure, but you truly have made my life, a life so   
changed.” The words seemed to fit better with Dan, and Phil realized something. They were never for Cecile. Those words had always been for Daniel Howell.

“Phil… I l-love you.” Dan said. “And I w-wish this wasn’t the end of our grand adventure. We're not going to make it through this, are we?” 

“You can't say that, Dan!” Phil said. 

“No,” Dan said. With much difficulty, he raised his hand out of the water and pointed towards the ship. “Look.”

The ship made a final, horrible groaning noise. Then, a cracking, splintering sound. Phil could see the dim lights of the bow of the ship, which were under water, grow smaller and smaller until they finally flickered out. They felt a faint pull from   
underneath, the suction of the bow as it sunk, and struggled a bit more to keep treading water. 

“The bow just broke off.” Phil said. The stern of the ship now sat in the water, and was almost almost level with it before it swung up to an almost at a 90 degree angle. People were still clinging to the stern and falling off, screams echoing across the   
frigid water. They were close enough so that Phil could see their faces, their final looks of terror before they hit the water. As he watched the great funnels break off the ship and plummet into the water, Phil realized what was about to happen.

“Dan,” he could barely talk, and each word took all the effort and concentration he had. “Listen to me. When that ship goes down there's going to be a huge suction. We're probably going to be sucked down with it. I want you to do something. When   
we go under, if you think we even have a chance at surviving, kick. Kick like your life depends on it, because it does. Swim up, do you hear me? Swim up.” 

Dan nodded, his eyes wide. “You're going to be right t-there next to me?” 

“I'll try.” He said looking at Dan one more time, at his blue lips and his curling brown hair, frozen and tipped with frost. “I will never leave you.” 

The great ship plummeted into the water. There were many screams and a great wave washed over the nearby lifeboats. As Phil predicted, they were both pulled under by a great suction-like current. The air he'd gathered was torn out of his lungs.   
They were pulled down deep, so deep. Phil reached his hand out into the cold darkness, and Dan grabbed it. They held each other as they were being pulled under. Phil kept his eyes screwed shut and he had a feeling Dan did the same. Through the   
blinding terror and numbness, a small flame of certainty warmed his heart. He was with Dan, the most important person in his life. As the cold and darkness snuffed out the life burning in Phil’s chest, he had one small realization. 

Whether it was the ship, their feelings for each other, or the suction pulling them deep into the Atlantic, they could never fight the forces that pushed them together or pulled them apart. They could never fight it. 

Phil never considered himself a romantic but there was something so poetically righteous about this ending. 

They held each other as they sunk slowly into the depths, consciousness fading.

_Farewell vain world, I’m going home._


End file.
